Speeding Cars
by Purple-Jasmine
Summary: She had to be open with him, no secrets allowed. But little did she know that he was venturing into her past far more than she expected. Than they both expected. Will he stop in time to save their growing relationship? Or will his addiction to her surpass what he can handle? Can she stand becoming so vulnerable to a man she hardly knows?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N_:_ Hey there, new story as you can all see. I hope you enjoy it as I shall while I write it. Inspired by Imogen Heap's song 'Speeding Cars'. There was no beta and please review! Hopefully this will go far, the chapters, will vary in length because longer chapters are more time consuming to write and update, so hopefully by keeping the chapters slightly shorter, I'll be able to upload a new chapter more frequently. But be warned, I'm awful at it. _  
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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 1: Just Run_

She couldn't believe it. It had been two years, two long years of complete solitude. She had disappeared off the map, laid low, stuck to the plan. And now? She held the card in her hand, re reading the onyx script on the blue and gold plated paper. Her mouth was agape and her brown orbs were wide.

_Dear Ariadne,_

_This must be an unexpected surprise. Hopefully you are doing well, and the past few years have been beneficial. However, I would like to invite you to a formal dinner. I suspect you will recognize a few more of my guests. We will be having dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in California, the address in on the following card. I hope you will be able to attend._

_Sincerely,_

_Saito._

The reunion was scheduled in a weeks time and was located in northern California. She contemplated this and stared at her calendar. Surely she could take off a few days for this dinner and spend some time out of town. Since she had been living at home, she had hardly left the small town. Ariadne had developed a schedule. Monday through Friday she worked a standard nine to five day job at a small architecture firm which specialized in making community buildings such as schools, churches, and orphanages. On Saturday and Sunday she would relax at home, go grocery shopping and swim in her mind of beautifully vivid memories.

This invitation blew her schedule to pieces. Surely this dinner was not an act of spontaneity. It was almost like a summon rather than a casual reunion dinner amongst colleges. There was no doubt in her mind that her company would consist of the previous dream team, no pun intended. Cobb, Arthur, and Eames would be there, she knew. Did Saito have a new job for them? Did something go wrong with Inception? Did Fischer finally find out about Saito's intrusion on his mind? Ariadne couldn't help but think further into this, but had to halt her train of thought before it went into overdrive. All she knew was that: she was going to this dinner.

After performing inception on Fischer they had landed in the United States. Suddenly, they became a team of strangers, all skillfully, but casually taking no notice to each other. It was essential that they show little relation between them, just in case something had gone horribly wrong and they needed to disappear.

Ariadne's life had fallen slowly into place. She returned to school for her final year and graduated successfully. Her mother passed away of disease shortly after, leaving her home and property to Ariadne. There she settled, packing family things away and turning the home steadily into her own. She became an adult, and no longer completely naïve of the surrounding world.

She enjoyed her work…to an extent of course. It was almost maddening the antagonizing slow process of building a new structure. Budgets were needed, laborers were required, time was wasted - in her opinion- constructing the building. They no longer appeared like sprouting weeds on a lawn, nor did they defeat the laws of physics which she had to re-teach herself after her deep involvement in the dream world. Ah, the dream world. Ariadne relished in it, fantasized about it, wished to bring it upon herself once again. She relapsed into her fond memories of near impossible creation and discovery which all seemed to real to her, it had taken her two years to ground herself and still every morning and every night, Ariadne would tip over her bishop totem allowing the light '_thunk_' of the wood hitting a flat surface resonate off of her surroundings. Would she ever be able to forget the dream world? No. Did she want to? That was a new question for which she dared not to answer. While her experiences during her slumber were marvelous and often fond, they continued to leave a haunting feeling, a chill that would tingle slowly up her spine as she would remember the terrifying details of her personal occurrences.

_Do you know what it's like to be a lover? Half of a whole…._

Mal's voice stuck with her for months upon months. She haunted her in a peculiar way, as if to remind her that what she did was very real, almost too real. Every time Ariadne would recall the gorgeous woman who toyed within her colleague Dom Cobb's dreams, her lines of reality and dreams were blurred and meshed uncomfortably.

And each time Mal's famous words would echo through her head, Ariadne couldn't think of another answer other than the single word ' _No.' _She had sat with her totem for two days straight, never leaving the house, attempting to redefine what the dream was and was not. But that was two years ago. Before she had adapted to her new ways of life. However, there was an underlying fear bubbling deep within the architect. A feeling buried in an abyss of emotion within herself which made her want to vomit of mental and physical sickness. It left a daunting and obvious question running through her mind ever since she had received the invitation. That, if she were to enter the dream world yet again, would she be able to escape it?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another chapter? Already? Well you deserved it! The response to this has been amazing. Plenty of hits and visitors! Though if everyone dropped by a review I'd have well over 100 by now. I'm practically desperate for opinions (well not that desperate) but I do cherish them. A few words really make the difference to me. I hope you enjoy this, next chapter, you'll be introduced to what this dinner is actually for. Thank you again:) - Jazz **

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><p><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 2: Never Far_

The week had passed in a blur, this was definite. Ariadne vaguely recalled asking for a number of days off from work, her gentlemanly supervisor kindly obliging to her request. She also hardly remembered purchasing a new dress for the formal occasion but again, it all seemed surreal. Her thoughts, instead of focusing on the future, remained in the past. Seeing her associates, her friends, once again filled her with powerful emotions that she had a hard time containing her excitement and nervousness as she passed the state border of California.

And now? Now she was moments away from walking through the aperture into a rather chic and classy restaurant. Few people resided in the area, she couldn't make out any faces for the dim lighting obscured any pin point features. Though surely, Saito would not have them sitting around strangers. No, she was instead directed to a reserved room located towards the back of the luxury restaurant. The double entry doors were extravagant and intricately designed in a modern sophisticated manner. She stood outside the closed egresses, breathing heavily as the same bubbling feelings deep within her began to emerge again. The emotions attacked her with a vengeance as she bit her tongue and willed her feet to step forward and open the hatchway.

Ariadne was never considered a particularly courageous person. Instead, she had always been practical. Applying her bravery to actual situations as opposed to acting recklessly and bringing about foolish situations. She wondered, while standing in solitude, how her team remembered her. The curious college girl with a scarf fetish and wide, inexperienced eyes to the world? The one with the social abilities equivalent to that of a shy toddler who would hide behind her mother's leg? Or perhaps the young little student she had become to all of them with a developing personality and undermining arrogance for her intellectual ability. No matter how they envisioned her, she was assured that, that girl was gone. Her personality developed as well as her appearance through the life changing two years she had experienced.

Looking in a nearby mirror Ariadne saw the reflection of a twenty five year old woman. She had fair skin and a short hair -do which came to grace the tips of her shoulders. She saw how the fitted black dress clung lightly to her matured figure and how her eyes gleamed with a dark sense of knowing and almost an enchanting sense of mystery behind her otherwise plain brown eyes. With a deep breath, she opened the door only to be greeted by silence.

Eight pairs of eyes turned towards her, inspecting her carefully. She could read the expressions on all of their mildly aged faces; shock. She smirked lightly, it was the reaction she was hoping for. Shock, astonishment, baffling all would have sufficed. Her playful smirk turned into a gentle smile as she stared upon the familiar faces.

"Welcome Ariadne," Saito finally said, his voice breaking the silence and cutting the slight tension in the air. He smiled fondly at her and gestured to the empty seat on his left, next to the famous forger Eames, and across from the Point Man, Arthur. Before she sat down, Dom Cobb stood up. His chair making a distinctive noise against the floor. He came up and quickly embraced Ariadne, as a father would his daughter. He smiled at her, his loving blue eyes twinkling at her as he patted her head affectionately. His movement was copied by her other colleagues.

"Welcome back darling," Eames greeting cheekily as he pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Ariadne beamed at the affection and attention she received. It was better than a high school reunion, this was a beautiful evening with her closest associates. It was as if they had never parted.

Arthur approached her and grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms as he looked at her fondly. He stared into her dolled up eyes, through her long lashes and beneath her simple makeup into the very depths of her mundane brown irises. He smiled lightly at her which she returned before being greeted by Saito in light embrace. The men were her friends, these men meant the world to her. And truly, it felt as though she had never left.

Dinner continued joyously. Yusuf, as Saito explained, who could not attend, sent his regards. Ariadne found that her two years away from the group seemed far more exciting than that of her ex-coworkers. They had remained in hiding, living comfortably off of their riches from Saito's job offer. Dom had returned home to his children, and was proud to say how he was present for Phillipa's fifth grade graduation and James's first day in the second grade. Ariadne couldn't help but smile fondly at the father, who finally got to be a dad.

Eames returned to his home in England, and resided there as a bachelor. Living his life large, as he said and eagerly participating in his favorite pass-time; gambling. He told stories of his long and wasted nights and while it seemed so detrimental and almost demeaning to the professional forger, he seemed perfectly content with his promiscuous life style and never failed to ignite his friends in rounds of hearty laughter.

Saito's experience had been no secret to the team. The flourishing of his company grew and emerged steadily in the headlines of several newspapers after the media got over the shock of Fischer destroying his own empire. It seemed as though they never connected the two occurrences, merely taking it as the coming and going fluctuating trends between companies.

Arthur, comparatively, seemed to have the most mundane story to tell over the past two years. He resided in New York State, in an apartment on 42nd East Avenue. He lived contently and did nothing particularly out of the ordinary. He too did not work, but instead spent his time reading newspapers, wandering around the city aimlessly and enjoying the business life of Wall Street.

"What have you been doing Ariadne?" Asked Cobb as Arthur quickly finished his explanation of his current lifestyle. All eyes settled on her as she straightened up to speak. She no longer felt their pressuring stares nor the expectation to be doing something particularly extraordinary.

"I've been living in Idaho, in my home town. After graduation I decided to come back here. I work for a small architecture firm that does more charity work than anything else but it's still a job," she explained briefly. She did not trip over her words, not did she fumble for the correct saying. No, that was the old Ariadne, the insecure college student who wanted nothing more than a degree under her belt.

"Why work!" Exclaimed Eames, who took a swing of his champagne.

"Well, it would seem suspicious. I new graduate from college who doesn't look for work but instead is living comfortably alone with no debts to pay off? And either way I would find it far too boring sitting around all day to be quite honest. I like being productive," she said in the same eloquent tone. She took a sip of her wine, her deep red lipstick leaving a light stain on the crystal champagne glass. Her fellow extractors and idea implanters nodded in understanding and approval of her decision to work.

"Why Idaho?" Asked Arthur suddenly though Ariadne could not completely blame him. Idaho was an often forgotten state in the middle of America. Ariadne visibly tensed and took in another sharp breath, running a hand through her short hair.

"It was my home town, my house was left in my name so I decided to move in and take care of it," she explained hoping that the team would understand her tension and touchiness of the subject.

But of course, her luck often did work against her.

Eames, who was more or less slurring his words messily together - but holding his alcohol like a champion- asked her; " You got a house left in your name? By who?"

The silence filled the room as Ariadne looked to the man beside her. He did not spare her, but it is not as though she could keep her mothers death a complete secret from her friends for so long. She wished to wait until coffee or the following day to dive deeper into her personal life. But alas, no, Eames had the habit of extracting information in the conscious world. No one diverted the conversation because, she knew, that they were all equally curious.

"The year of my graduation my mother passed away. So, she left the house in my name," her response had come out uncharacteristically clipped. She almost regretted the tone in her voice but hopefully it delivered her message that she, indeed, did not want to discuss her own personal affairs.

Ariadne had always been that way, sharing the minimum with her friends, community, family. Smiling, Ariadne figured she would ease the tension by excusing herself, allowing the men to comment freely on her previous statement while she used the ladies room located down the hall way.

The moment she closed the door behind her she could hear the chatter erupt. Mainly a yell coming from what sounded like Arthur.

"What the hell was the interrogation for Eames?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter Three already! I know, but I just can't seem to stop writing this. My love for _Inception _seems infinite and I really wanted to get the basics of the plot out there so I can spend more time on the actual exciting chapters. After this, and perhaps one more short chapter, updates will SLOW DOWN. but a few chapters will hopefully keep you satisfied. **

**My apologies for the ending, the suspense must kill you! Even though you'll know her answer soon enough. Well read, and then you'll find out what I mean. **

**Disclaimer: I forgot this in chapter two, but I thought it would be implied how I don't own Inception  
>Please review you kind people. Thank you for all the hits.<br>**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 3: It's More_

She returned to the dining room after making the fake trip to the lavatory. Her phony bathroom break was exactly four minutes, hopefully it would seem authentic enough. Entering the room, she smiled slightly, as if the awkward moment from before had not happened at all. The small twinge of her colored lips had the ability to lighten the atmosphere considerably.

Ariadne locked eyes with Cobb who observed her carefully through his experienced orbs. His gaze seemed perplexed and guarded. As though her mature composure were to shatter within seconds, and her bottled emotions would jet out of her like Niagara Falls. With her mask intact, she took her seat beside Eames and took another sip of her wine, allowing the alcohol to ease over her ebbing nerves.

Soon, the plates were cleared and the small mugs for tea and coffee were provided. The cups were dainty but durable, each fashioning an intricate design complimenting that of the elaborate restaurant. Suddenly, the servers in the private area were dismissed with a vague hand gesture indicated by Saito. The room soon became vacant apart from the four men and Ariadne. The deep bubbly feeling of anxiety settled back into her stomach, churning the remains of her dinner. Automatically, she readied herself. This was no normal dinner, it was no normal reunion, it was no normal circumstance.

It was more, much, much more.

Saito cleared his throat quietly and looked around and his soon to be employees. "I have, a request," he began. His voice was quiet, but it didn't need to be loud because his word rung like the church bells of Notre Dame in Ariadne's ears. "I need to know, how it is possible to train one's mind against extractors." He said in the same tone, looking directly at Cobb who was already shaking his head.

"Please," started Dom, "I appreciate the offer but no thank you. I just got home and I don't want to risk straying away yet again. Now if you'll excuse me, it is getting late and I have children that need to be tucked into bed. Thank you for the lovely dinner, I hope to see you all before another two years." He said in a polite tone. There was no menace in his voice, just a protective father ready to erupt if someone dared to place them self in between he and his children.

Saito nodded understandingly and did not push the matter further until Dom Cobb had left the room. Ariadne was left with Arthur, Eames and Saito. She pondered if she should leave now too, take her leave and claim that normalcy was enough for her contentment. But the growth of the uneasy feeling would not let her, and so, she remained glued to her seat uncomfortably.

"As I was saying, I want to train a subconscious. I want to learn how to do so, like how Fischer's subconscious was militarized. However, I do not want to be…how Americans say it….the 'guinea pig.' Instead, I want to observe how you train someone else. That way the tactics you use, I can apply to myself and whom so ever I choose," explained Saito. He looked promisingly into Arthur's eyes. The new leader with the most dream experience after Dom.

"Why not train your subconscious to begin with, it would save a step," posed Arthur. Of course, the man of punctuality, of efficiency, wanted to get the job over and done with quickly with as little bumps in the road as possible.

Saito did not have a readable expression, but kept his face completely stoic. It rivaled Eames's poker face in apathy. "Because, Arthur, I have my own secrets to keep an-"

"So does everyone, Saito," Arthur cut him off. Ariadne looked in shock at Arthur. He had never been so rude or clipped with anyone before. She was an inexperienced dreamer, only performing one inception mission for a team of highly trained expert extractors. She could not wonder what the process of defending your subconscious would be, how demanding, how extensive. Her curiosity clouded her mind.

"- but mine I refuse to share with no one. You can turn down my offer Arthur, easily. But even you know that this is the least risk impending offer you will ever receive."

Arthur stared at him, his dark eyes seemed steel- like. Hard, and frigid. He seemed to be contemplative but remained indecisive of his final decision. To much of his dislike, Saito had provided an excellent point. Teaching defense, with a team and client he was already familiar with, was a great opportunity. It would set him for life, and keep him perfectly occupied. He, of course, had assisted on this several times while also being able to apply it to himself.

"If not you, who would you suggest we use? Surely we can't go up to any street walker and ask to invade their personal lives," Arthur remarked coolly. It was strictly business, no emotional strings attached. No string that Saito had practically become one of the team when diving deep down into Fischer's dreams, and not some measly tourist.

"What about you?" Offered Saito.

"I've already been trained, the process would be a waste."

"Eames?"

But Arthur answered for him; "You may not believe it but he's trained as well. We've been in this… industry and area of expertise for a long time. Of course the trainers need to be trained themselves."

"Ariadne?" Saito looked at her, a hopeful gleam in his small eyes. As if he knew that she was the only one that would not have the training. Arthur stayed mute, staring at her intensely. A whirlwind of thoughts crashed down on Ariadne's mind, spinning her brain and making everything seem so surreal and incomprehensible.

"What?" She was finally able to ask. The conversation had taken a dangerous turn on a sharp corner in the road, and the speeding car was headed straight for her. All she could do was act like a deer in headlights. Shocked, unsure, and insecure.

"Do you have training? Your subconscious defending itself from extractors?" Arthur asked, though he knew the answer. He rubbed his forehead lightly the pads of his long fingers. The stress already becoming apparent on his chiseled face.

"Well, no," she admitted, " but that doesn't mean I will just open my mind to someone who wants to use me in such a manner. No offense Saito." She replied hastily. The idea sent her over on edge. Her secrets were her own…

But she could not deny the appeal of the opportunity. A chance to be in the dream world. Something that she had secretly craved for two long years. It was a win- win situation. Go into the realm of unconsciousness, and learn to defend what laid there hidden beneath the layers of mazes. However, the down side was her ultimate exposure. To be trained, she knew, that the target had to be completely open with the coach. There were exceptions, a few personal experiences could be saved, locked away in the most secure mental bank. No person was left completely vulnerable to the actions of another.

But, how was that a contradicting down side. If it was performed by the people staring in front of her, she would not have it any other way. She trusted these people. She trusted them, not only with her life. . .but with the pure essence of her sanity. What about her reality? Unfortunately, the dream world and real life did not run in perfect parallels with each other. She had a hard enough experience drawing the lines in the first place, but to deliberately have them go askew?

"I…," she began. She could practically smell Saito's spicy cologne he was on the edge of his seat. The smell of alcohol coming from Eames over powered it by clashing horribly. She looked over at Eames, his slightly blood shot eyes were blank. She could tell that he was still able to function, but did not trust himself with an opinion. He had said little when she had returned from the washroom, perhaps due to the extensive scolding she had heard Arthur give him.

She turned to the point man who have his elbows on the table, and his big hands clasped tightly. He stared at her intently. His observatory eyes attempted to her read her, peer through her very thoughts to achieve the slightest inkling of what could happen next. Under his intense gaze, Ariadne couldn't help but want to shy away. She protested against it thought and challenged Arthur with a stare of her own.

Moments ticked away in silence, she could hear her own heartbeat thudding against her chest at a steady beat. All three men had yet to move their gaze from her. Ariadne needed time, but needed to give an answer. There was only one logical thing to do.

"I'll think about it."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Last one for now. Hopefully you as a reader will begin to understand more of the direction of which I'm taking this. I expect a lot of reviews so please don't disappoint:). I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and have been enjoying the past few chapters because I really have not been able to get enough of this. It's all coming to me so naturally, I've been writing for about four hours straight and successfully produced two (quality? You tell me) chapters. **

**Disclaimer: _Inception_, inspiration song (_Speeding Cars_ by Imogen Heap), or any quotes taken for this chapter either from people or the movie itself.  
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**Review; thank you!**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 4: Now, Now Darling _

The bishop landed with the familiar, and echoing '_thud' _as it always did in her reality. Ariadne returned her hand underneath the comfortable duvet of her hotel- room bed. She snuggled beneath her warm sheets, and let the pristine white pillows caress her aching head.

Ariadne had to decide and soon. Her options were weighing heavily on her mind that the more she thought of her compromising situation the farther away from a decision she was. More positives and negatives sent her mind into a frenzy that the stress was beginning to become over bearing. Her hand itched to call Dom Cobb, the practical, experienced dreamer. But she knew that he wanted little to no affiliation with Saito's latest project and therefore; refrained, with difficulty, from doing so. Ariadne sighed a turned her body underneath her sheets.

She closed her eyes steadily, and saw the onyx back of her eyelids. She wanted to bury herself in the comforting sheets, never to emerge and face reality. Every time she closed her eyes , she could see Arthur's intense stare. She could tell that he was as clueless as she was when it came time to decide what to do. But the hidden message behind his dark orbs spoke to her, lending his support in whatever decision she made. Ariadne had no idea how she could collect so much information from one long gaze but the words of description seemed all too fitting that it had to be true.

"Ugh, what do I do?" She whispered aloud just under her breath. Another sigh followed her unanswered question and before long she grew restless. The sheets which gave her comfort one minute were restricting her the next, tangling themselves about her body. Finally she released herself from it's clutches and began to pace in her pajamas.

Ah, pacing. One of the most cliche things to do while contemplating a life decision. It rarely worked for the young architect, but after an hour of walking six steps, turning, then walking another six steps before turning again, Ariadne had made her decision. She prayed that she would not regret it for a few moments later she steadily picked up her mobile phone and dialed a number that was given to her the previous night.

The phone rang dully in her ear and she considered hanging up and thinking more about what she was about to do. Turning down such an opportunity suddenly seemed foolish to her. Quickly, she hang up and rested the phone back on the table.

Her intention was to turn down the offer, walk away from the dream world for good, forever. Doing this would be her following her logic. But her instinct told her to go for the job. Train her mind and accept the dream realm back into her life. Instinct versus logic, who was to say who would win?

Ariadne put her head in her hands, and mulled her situation over and over again. She made pro and con lists, seven to be exact. And with each one she would rip out the paper, crumple it up into a ball (or rip it to small shreds as was the case with list number four) and throw it away while mumbling how her decision should come from her and not a piece of printer paper.

Now, this was ridiculous. Ariadne couldn't help but feel frustrated. This was a life impacting decision and she couldn't help but be so insecure with whatever decision she would make. Quickly, she picked up her phone a quickly went through her contacts list to achieve the number of a certain number. She, again, listened to the dull ringing but this time, she waited for the phone to be answered as opposed to hanging up once again.

"Hello?" The tired male voice called.

"Hello, Miles? I need your opinion on something…" Ariadne said into her mobile, as she told her previous teacher the story of Saito's dinner, and the compromising situation she had found herself between.

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><p>Sixty- seven.<p>

Sixty- seven minutes later, a couple tissues, and half a battery gone later Ariadne had her decision. It was not easily achieved but after discussing it with Miles she felt more confident than ever with what she was about to do. She thought of Saito, Arthur, and Eames as she picked up her mobile again. Steadily she entered the number into her phone, the numbers appearing in a bright blue color, contrasting against the black of it's screen. She gazed at the inserted number and then the green, call button. She couldn't help but feel like it was daunting her. Daring her to rethink decision again.

_No, _she thought. The word seemed so strong in her mind that she called right away and brought the phone up to her ear. _I will not rethink this. It's time to take a leap of faith, and that's exactly what I am going to do_. Her thoughts sounded determined and strong, which surprised Ariadne to an extent. But she meant each word.

Time to take a leap of faith. It was a leap, into uncharted waters, unknown territory. It filled her with fear. An irrational amount of fear. It controlled her body, flooding her like it was part of the hemoglobin in her blood. She couldn't help but stick to her answer now. The phone kept ringing, and all she could think of was how she was going to tell her news. It was not an everyday occurrence, and so she needed to follow through. Enough worrying, enough pacing, enough stressing out over a yes or no answer.

"Hello? Ariadne?" She heard on the other side of her phone.

"Eames." She said calmly.

There was a dense and awkward silence between the two. She could hear people in the background, their chatter was minute but still detectable.

"Are Arthur and Saito there?" She asked him.

"Yes, they are. We are eagerly awaiting your response darling," he said to her in a calming voice.

"Can you put me on speaker phone please?" Her nerves erupted like a thousand little beads running around her throat and making her voice box disappear.

"Sure thing love, here you are," she heard Eames's far away voice as well as the two distinctive voice of Arthur and Saito.

"Ariadne!" Cried Saito over the phone. "You're decision?"

Her breath got hitched in her throat. She closed her eyes, and merely prayed that she would not come to regret this decision. This choice of whether or not she should allow Arthur and Eames to build a defense technique in her mind while Saito took notes.

"Now, now darling. Calm down, this is your call. We'll follow you." Came Eames's voice again. He sounded so wise for a moment, as if he detected her nerves from miles away, wherever they were located in the grand state of California. She took a deep breath.

"Saito," she addressed him directly. This was for his benefit and his mission. "I'm . . ."

A silence of suspension hung heavily in air. Ariadne couldn't help but hesitate, her brain continued to battle out and weight all of her options. But no, this madness needed to end now. She couldn't take it any more, it drove her to the edge of a cliff and continuously pushed her closer and closer to her metaphorical breaking point. _Come on Ariadne, get yourself together. Be the independent and mature person you've become_ her brain scolded her.

"Ariadne?" Came Arthur's voice. His tone sounded slightly worried and anxious. She hadn't said a word for nearly five minutes as they listened to each others breathing. And then she said two words. Two words which had the potential to change her life and alter it's course. And whether it was her lack of better judgment, or her skillful amount of judgment Ariadne spoke two words ever so quietly into her phone. The words broke out in the silence of her luxury hotel room. There was no turning back now. After all, great moments were born from great opportunities.

"I'm in."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Another chapter of Speeding Cars! In the little time this story has been uploaded there has been an incredible response in considering the number of alerts and hits. And if each person who read this reviewed, then this story would have 500+ reviews which is sadly, not the case. For faster updates I request that you review. They are motivational and encouraging. But without them, your patience will be put to good use because I will simply not have another chapter up for quite some time. So please review if you read. **

**Disclaimer: Inception, and the song Speeding Cars are both not owned by myself.**

**Enjoy~ and remember to review if you would appreciate Chapter Six. Thank You.  
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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 5: Textbook Stuff_

And so there she sat, her hands caressing a warm cup of coffee while she listened to Arthur begin to break down the process of training a mind in self defense. He made it sound so simple, though Ariadne knew that it was far from it. This is how they had began their day, jumping right into work in order to get the job done efficiently. Though, Saito had assured them that they had all the time they needed, staying involved with the dream world for too long a period of time can be considered dangerous. Eames sat next to her, appearing to be less than interested in anything that came out of the point man's mouth. He yawned behind his hand several times as he was able to cozy himself into the soft sofa material.

"Ah, Arthur," began Saito interrupting him. "How long will this entire process take?"

"Well, it depends on the person." Began Arthur, he gestured to Ariadne who peered up at him unaffected by the sudden draw of attention. "Ariadne has been known to pick up on these things quickly, she's also familiar with the dream world and is quite intelligent enough to understand what we are trying to do. A month I presume for the first layer, then maybe an additional two weeks for the second."

"Second layer?" Questioned Ariadne.

"Yes, it is advisable that a person who is receiving the training go at least two layers deep," explained Arthur. This was a detail which the men had failed to inform her of. Though it made little to no difference to her. So she nodded understandingly and allowed Arthur to continue.

"The first few weeks of our training will consist of Ariadne's one on one sessions with myself. The participant must learn to be completely open with the trainer in order to construct a personalized sense of defense. When it is personalized, not only is it easily settled into the mind but also tends to be more effective," Arthur peered at his small audience only to find that Saito looked slightly preoccupied, Eames was practically sleeping with his eyes open and only the small form of Ariadne seemed interested.

"Step one is being completely open," Arthur restated. "Step two would consist of the team going into Ariadne's subconscious, talking and planning with them in order to extract more information. Step three would consist of using the information to decide how it's going to become a defense mechanism that would sit well with the individual. For example, Fischer did not have a problem being violent, therefore his defense subconscious was militarized. Though, someone who is passive in comparison would have a harder time settling with a violence- centric defense. In the rare case that the subconscious rejects the form of defense the consequences can be dire and do severe damage to the dreamer. Hence the reason of importance that the target is extremely open and honest," he stressed carefully while looking at Ariadne.

In Ariadne's mind she could not help but wonder why she had chosen to do this. Her secrets were her own, though she could not imagine that her secrets were far extreme as compared to the people Arthur worked with in the past. She flipped through her life's story, looking for any interesting news that she would, in this case , have to surrender to Arthur in order to have a proper defense mechanism of a subconscious.

Ariadne had grown up in a small town in Idaho of the United States. She lived with her mother, and grew up to be naturally independent. From there on she was accepted into an elite architecture school in Paris and the rest was a number of chapters that she shared with the men before her. Ariadne had no problem trusting Arthur, he was a good man with a gentle soul, that she knew. And deep down, a purring sensation covered her stomach when she contemplated the amount of time she would be spending with him, just talking and revealing who she was. It almost seemed as though they were casually getting together, getting to know each other. Though, he would be the one questioning her, and traveling into her subconscious. Her insides almost purred again, as she fought down a microscopic tingling sensation. It was nothing, just working again with Arthur, and the twitching in her stomach halted.

"When shall we start?" She asked Arthur, he finally took his seat across from her. He took her coffee and placed it on the table to the side of them, he took both her hands and looked at her carefully. His hooded dark eyes stared into her own. He played with her hands gently, tracing her long fingers and running his own hand over her smooth skin.

"This is up to you, whenever you feel comfortable. Because your comfort and your willingness determines this mission." he said to her sincerely. He smiled briefly, as if to ease the eruption of nerves that exploded within her suddenly at the prospect of having such an influence over the job. She patted his hands and returned a slightly smile.

"Tomorrow," she said will a reassuring tone. "I'll be ready to start, tomorrow."

Arthur nodded in agreement and stood up from in front of her, leaving her hands empty. She allowed herself to smile again, her beaming confidence over taking the room. She would have started that moment but there was a hesitancy she detected in Arthur's stare. As if he would be more comfortable knowing that it was not her mind that he would be intruding. She thought little of his intense gaze, but at the same time, couldn't seem to rid her mind of the image. Picking up her coffee she took a long sip, allowing the cooled liquid to ease into her mouth and steadily down her throat, the tastes of vanilla and sweetener becoming pleasingly aware on her tongue. Ariadne couldn't be more excited, and tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So it's been about a week from my last update, so I do hope you enjoy. There were plenty of hits, but then there was hardly any reviews. Thank you for those who did review, and those who didn't, I'd prefer it if you did. This message must be a bit haphazard I'm currently watching the end of Inception (again) and Cobb has just been reunited with his kids. Zoom in on the spinning top, little wobble, then BLACK. This ending get's me practically every time. **

**Anyway; PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Inception, _or _Speeding Cars_**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter Six: Growing Up_

The following day had come sooner than what Ariadne had expected it too. She had almost anticipated a long antagonizing wait before she would be able to step foot in the Californian warehouse again. Though, before hand, she did have to make proper arrangements. That morning she had called her supervisor over at the small architecture firm of which she worked at. She provided an excuse in order have two months off from work, because after this entire project was over, Ariadne did indeed intend to return back to work. She found the conversation to be slightly difficult, after all, claiming that a family member had passed away the previous night was a hard task to pull off. She added to her boss' guilt by saying how she was a young mother of two daughters, and that Ariadne was requested to stay for an extended time in order to allow the family to re situate itself.

Of course her manager, being the naive and weak hearted man he was, gave nothing but his most sincere condolences which did nothing to give Ariadne a strong wave of guilt. She attempted to take it in stride but couldn't help to think about her cliché and dramatic excuse as she walked towards to abandoned area for her first day of defense.

Letting herself into the warehouse, she saw that it was completely empty, all except for the lone man sitting in a shirt and tie in the small sitting area. He looked up as he heard her come in, and found himself staring at the woman that had become Ariadne. His crush had only seemed to grow stronger over time, for at the end of the Fischer mission he was just at the point where he could no longer deny his attraction for the young architect. But, as she walked in before him, Arthur could not deny how stunning she had grown to be. Her maturation seemed ten fold that of what it was before which Arthur appreciated to an extent. He somewhat missed her curiosity and inquisitive nature, but had come to like her knew. . . Almost mysterious ways. Arthur himself couldn't find the accurate words to describe the developed individual which Ariadne had become, but he would openly admit that he was quite fond of it.

"Good morning," she greeted him politely, though her tone told him otherwise.

"What's wrong?" He asked her, and she looked taken back by surprise. Arthur couldn't help but smirk, his perceptive an observatory nature never ceased to shock her.

"Nothing. . ." she trailed off, her thoughts wandering elsewhere. Arthur gave her a stern look, his eye brows raised in disbelief. Ariadne sighed lightly. "Well, in order to get off work, I created this rather awful story. I just feel bad for using my supervisor like that, he's a good person and my excuse was a bit dramatic. I feel guilty is all," she explained as if it was not a big deal. But in reality, the guilt was gnawing its way up like an unpleasant sensation of regurgitation.

"Oh," Arthur said. He was most certainly not expecting that. "Do you want to call this all off?"

"What? No, of course not!" Ariadne exclaimed, appalled at the suggestion. After all the time she had spent contemplating this job, she was not about to give it up unnecessarily.

"Alright," Arthur said smiling. He gestured to the seat across from him which Ariadne took. She slipped off her jacket and laid it across the arm of the sofa.

"Where is everyone?"

"Well, since it'll only be you and myself today, there was really no reason for anyone else to come it. Please, be comfortable this is a long process and it won't do either of us any good if we sit like this is some interview," he joked lightly. He loosened his red tie for emphasis and took out a writing pad. Ariadne watched him before sliding her feet out of her heels and laying her legs on the sofa.

"Let's get started shall we?" Asked Arthur, Ariadne nodded snuggled deeper into the velvet sofa. "Okay, so lets start off with just an easy go at your childhood. Where were you born and raised?"

"A small town in Idaho. I've lived there practically all my life," Ariadne responded diligently.

"Did you have any pets?" Arthur asked, he felt foolish for asking such mundane questions but he needed to get the easy, in comparison, question out of the way before he entangled himself in the story of her past.

"No, no pets. My mother was allergic to fur. Though we did have a gold fish named Spunk for a while, but that was about it," Ariadne half laughed. She recalled the time Spunk the gold fish was brought home. She was seven years old and spent her days talking to the small fish.

Arthur seemed to half laugh with her as he wrote these things down for reference. Each detail was essential. "What was your relationship with your parents like?"

The air suddenly seemed to get tense as Ariadne's muscles visibly stiffened. She avoided Arthur's penetrating gaze as she contemplated her answer. She opened and closed her mouth several times before saying something. "My relationship with my parents. I was really close with my dad, he's the main reason I went into architecture. He and I remained close even after the divorce my parents got when I was nine years old. My mother never thought I was very close with him, but in actuality I was. With my mom, she and I were near opposites, but we were still family. After the divorce I raised myself a lot because my mother was overcome by grief and regret. I still loved her though, and I wouldn't have preferred anyone else as my mom."

"Do you know why your parents got divorced?" Arthur asked, appreciative of Ariadne's obvious cooperation.

"No, they never specified. Probably because my dad spent a lot of his time at work," Ariadne shrugged.

"You talk about your dad in a strange way, are you still in contact with him now?" Asked Arthur though he was not prepared for what Ariadne was about to tell him.

"My father died, ages ago, in a car accident," Ariadne said quickly and quietly. Her fathers death was a touchy subject, more so than her mothers. Ariadne looked down at the ground, her bob of hair covering her face slightly as she recalled the breaking news she had received as a thirteen year old, that her beloved father was dead.

Arthur watched Ariadne recompose herself. He didn't know that his first round of simple questions had already cut so deep. However, he definitely did not know that there was so much more to discover about the woman sitting before him curled up on the sofa, clutching her hands in a vice grip as she willed herself not to leak a tear.

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><p><strong>Reviewers: <strong>

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed thus far! **

**LoveMeNot, Legal-Assassin-006, ., anonymouscookie, RaifandRosefan, and Roses123. **

**You are the people who keep me writing; I hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to review again... :)  
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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's another installment, and you see Level 1 of Ariadne. Peer into her past alongside Arthur and see what he finds. But more importantly, see what Arthur knows about Ariadne, that she doesn't know he knows. Make sense? Anyway, in this chapter I know I changed and altered a bit but it just works that way a bit better. Basically, Arthurs going into memories and extracting information about what makes Ariadne...well, Ariadne. You'll see what I mean.  
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**Anyway, thanks for all the hits. But seriously? That many reviews? That depressing. Thank you for those who did, but for those who didn't I'm quite saddened by you. So please take three seconds and drop by a review, I should be over 300 by now but I'm just breaking 20. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Inception _nor the song _Speeding Cars._**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter Seven: Here's the Day_

The familiar prick of the needle stung briefly against her skin as she slowly inserted the I.V. Within moments, she was immersed under the sedative which lulled her quickly to sleep. When she opened her eyes, Ariadne found herself in an unfamiliar town. It seemed like a small suburban area with simple square buildings, and unique individual houses. There was a river in the distance which ran beautifully alongside the road. She could see the clear water twinkling underneath the bright noon sun. _Just like home, _she thought.

Ariadne was engaged in another form of her training, a stage in which Arthur entered her subconscious to extract information. Peeking at the human projections of her subconscious she couldn't help but notice how comfortable they all appeared to be. They smiled and waved to one another as though it was a cheerful reunion as opposed to false images.

Ariadne decided to wander as she was instructed to. In order for Arthur to successfully extract information she was to act completely "normal" and follow the crowd of projections. In an ideal dream state they could not tell the subject apart from other projections and therefore she was to blend in perfectly, and more importantly, not find Arthur.

Arthur wandered through his own creation, the moment he had woken up he traveled in the opposite direction than that of Ariadne. The town he built intentionally had the same aura that could be achieved through Ariadne's little hometown in Idaho. He did not want to go through specifics, so instead strived to create a duplicate ambiance which he hoped would allow the subconscious projections to ease into. His speculation thus far seemed accurate, for the projections paid little attention to him as he casually walked by the small, simple buildings. He was a Point Man, not an Architect.

Passing the supermarket, town hall, and gas station Arthur located what he needed to find.

The bank.

Without knowing, when entering a dream, the subconscious fills a bank, vault, or any other secure place with all of it's secrets. Secrets which he needed in order to properly train Ariadne's mind. He thought of the discussion they had the previous day, it was emotionally trying but the fact that Ariadne had returned that morning proved her trust in him, and exceedingly high level of cooperation, both of which Arthur was grateful for. As Arthur came nearer to the bank he began getting the occasional suspicious glance from the projections. He slipped his hand discreetly in the inner pocket of his jacket, feeling the cool metal of a revolver brush briefly against the warmth of his hand.

Entering the bank, he was shocked to see that it was near deserted. There was a single customer at the counter, and a husband and wife in a cubicle discussing their retirement fund. Though this had no concern to him. For he heard in the background, towards the end of a long hallway, a small rumbling. It sounded eerily similar to that of a elevator. Arthur walked towards the sound, his shoes making noise against the linoleum, white tiles. He almost cursed and reminded his mind that carpet would be the best choice. Arthur continued down the hallway, overly curious because after all; _why would there be an elevator…in, what's supposed to be, a single story building?_

"Sir! Excuse me, sir! You can't go down that way," a female bank teller hollered after him. He ignored the aged red head and quickened his pace towards the sound, down the seemingly endless hallway. "SIR!" She asked again, her wide face peeking out of the cubicle. "Security! Security!"

_Shit! _Arthur thought as he sprinted down the hallway, he could hear quickened footsteps in the distance behind him and tried to quickly find the unplanned elevator. The soft 'ding' seemed so close but was covered by the noisy gunfire. He ducked and dodged, running in a zig-zag like fashion in an attempt to miss the aim of bullets.

'_Ding'_ He heard it again, and it was nearer this time. On his right, implanted into a wall there was an elevator. He dove inside quickly and slammed on the 'Close Door' button with his fist. While the doors were closing the gunfire came closer and closer, deflecting off the metal sides of the elevator door.

"Come on!" Arthur yelled as he pushed the button again, finally, the doors began to slowly close. The security projections were nearing, hardly fifteen feet away and gaining. The doors shut just as a bullet was headed Arthur's way. It clanged against the metal but did not penetrate the shiny silver door. Arthur panted for a moment and couldn't help but smirk, _count on Ariadne to have a bullet proof elevator. _

There were eight level buttons there. He hit the first one and headed downwards in the elevator. It was his first level of many, but he quickly vowed himself not to pursue past six levels in order for Ariadne to be entitled to their own secrets. Hopefully, it would be a promise he would be able to keep.

The sleek doors opened to a narrow hallway. Taking his gun out of his pocket, Arthur turned off the safety of it and hid in the shadows. He recognized yelling in the distance and moved towards it. As he did so he also heard sobbing in a near by room. The door was open revealing a bright turquoise and yellow room. It was bright and cheerful unlike the girl sitting in the middle of the carpeted floor, her knees brought up to her chest and her face buried in them. Her curly brown hair was every where, hiding her head completely and traveling down to her waist.

The girl couldn't have been more than seven years of age, he neared her, deciding that his presence was ghost like in Ariadne's memories and secrets. He had nothing to fear because he was not seen nor heard but her shades and projections.

"It's all my fault, all my fault," the little girl whispered so quietly, Arthur strained himself to hear. He picked up on the yelling again, something which peeked to a horrific decibel level.

"You call yourself a Father!" A woman shrieked, he presumed to be Ariadne's mother. Her voice was heavy and hurtful. "Are you aware that you have a seven year old daughter here! In this home! The home you're never in!"

"Helena!" A deeper voice boomed. "What are you saying! Do you listen to yourself!" Arthur followed the yelling into the kitchen, leaving site of the weeping Ariadne. He stood in the corner of the terracotta colored room, a concentrated look playing on his sharp facial features. His eyebrows were scrunched up as he attempted to understand what was going on.

"Of course I do Jack! How could I not! While you're off at work, I'm taking care of HER. ME. It's supposed to be split evenly Jack!" Helena yelled, her words were emphasized by her frantic pointing towards Ariadne's bedroom. Arthur stood, appalled at the way Helena seemed to blame Ariadne for her supposedly horrid lifestyle, though he wasn't the only one who sensed this.

"What are you doing! Blaming Ariadne! I want to be home more, but I have to provide as well Helena! Why won't you understand that I'm at risk for being fired; and the longer I spend there, the harder I work the better off we are!" Jack sighed, removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Arthur noticed the striking resemblance between Ariadne and her father. They both had long faces, with wide foreheads and smaller noses. Though Ariadne's hazel eyes and full lips she had adopted from her mother who stood there with her hands on her hips.

"Maybe I would be better off without you then," she said loudly in a declaring tone. "I leave, or you leave," she said, crossing her arms.

"Why Helena? We don't have to do this, you know I love you dearly and I love our little pumpkin too," Jack said in a soft tone. He attempted to embrace his upset wife but she flinched out of his grasp angrily.

"It's not enough anymore Jack,' she said softly as she peered at her husband with tear filled hazel eyes. She ran a hand through her curly blond hair and sighed. "You're not around, you're just a shadow in my life, Ariadne's life! How can you convince her that she still has a father, hm? Leave Jack, I don't want you here anymore."

"No!" Came Ariadne's voice, and her light patter of feet. The small seven year old ran and grasped her father's leg protectively. It was apparent that she was crying as tears continued to run down her cheeks from her large doe eyes.

"No!" She repeated again, "Daddy's staying here. I want him here Mommy!" She cried out, her voice was horse and full of pain but Helena couldn't subside her own anger. She bent down, grasped a reluctant Ariadne while Jack began leaking tears of his own, wanting to reach out to his baby girl.

"Say goodbye to Daddy, Ariadne, and now, stay in your room while we talk," her mother replied harshly which only caused Ariadne to scream out. The rawness of Ariadne's eyes as she struggled within her mothers grasp was exceedingly apparent.

"Daddy!" She yelled out again, her voice cracking and horse, before she was plopped into her room, and the door slammed. Silencing Ariadne's calls for her father. Helena came back, her arms crossed.

"What have you done Helena?"

"I've done what's best for me Jack," she replied hastily and defensively.

"Good, because your selfishness has been the destruction of this family. I don't know how I could ever love someone as self-centered and egotistical as you Helena." He said, as he walked away. Arthur hastily followed in his footsteps only to see that he was returning to Ariadne's room. She was on the bed now, hugging a stuffed dog to chest as she cried. He sighed, and sat down on her pink comforter.

"Hey love-bug," he said quietly in a soothing tone. Arthur never felt more intrusive watching the intimate father-daughter moment.

"Daddy," Ariadne whispered as she flung her small body at the well-built man. "Please don't leave, please don't leave."

"It looks like I have to sweet heart, but it's okay. You'll have Mommy, and I'll see you as much as I can okay?"

Ariadne nodded but cried even harder, as she kept whispering, unknowing to her father's ears; "It's all my fault, all my fault."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: It's too soon isn't it? My apologies (though you're probably very pleased with this arrangement, well I'd hope you would be...). Anyway! I thought that while I was writing that another chapter seemed like fun, and at first I was like; how on earth is this going to go! But then I started writing and it flowed from there. **

**Like my story? Want to be a part of it? Well, become a faithful reviewers and I personally shall extend an invitation to those select few for opinions and suggestions (I've already sent out two!). While I have most of the chapters laid out, I do want to provide readers with something pleasing. And it's my way of hogging in more reviews. Though this is a limited time offer, just until the fic really gets itself off the ground. **

**PLEASE REVIEW. Pretty Please:)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the movie _Inception, _nor the song _Speeding Cars.  
><em>Enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>  
><em>

_Chapter 8: Coffee_

Arthur finally found himself at his familiar safe house. Opening the door, he let out an exhausted sigh and immediately loosened his tie and set down his briefcase by the door. Removing his shoes he walked about the small abode. The layout was similar to that of an apartment. A small living room with plush black leather couches contrasted against the beige and whites of the room. It was skillfully put together with a neutral color pallet with strong contrasts of charcoal. Attached to the living room was a fully equipped but small kitchen.

Walking further into the home he wandered straight into his bedroom, changed into track pants and sunk immediately into his bed. It was merely 8:30pm, and yet he found himself exhausted beyond belief. He kept contemplating the elaborate scene which he had viewed inside Ariadne's head. His mind whirled and warped at the experiences Ariadne suffered as little as seven years of age. Divorce is unfortunately fairly common, his own parents were divorced, but never had he thought it would be such a messy separation. With his own parents the agreement had been mutual and his folks kept in touch. With Ariadne's the action was done out of pure anger and selfishness.

Helena was a character Arthur would have never pinpointed as Ariadne's mother. He always thought she would be, more like Ariadne. Kind, caring, perceptive, protective, but instead she came across as being hostile, rude, selfish, and all the other things Ariadne's father, Jack, said additionally. But what entranced his thoughts more than the scene he had intruded on, more than the uncaring woman that was Helena, or the fact that Arthur had merely scratched the surface of Ariadne by one of her eight levels was what she had said to him the previous day.

"_Do you know why your parents got divorced?" _He remembered asking, simply and curiously.

"_No, they never specified. Probably because my dad spent a lot of time at work," _she had replied easily with a shrug. And he believed her, this lovely woman that merely shrugged off the topic as though she had accepted that part of her life when in reality it was the opposite.

Getting out of bed Arthur strode the short way to his living space again, in the corner there was a bookshelf, most of them on shared dreaming experiences, documentaries, and more. Snagging a thick black book he flipped through several pages, finally settling on one (page 1064) and plopping down onto his couch. The leather felt cool and relaxing against the bare skin of his torso but quickly, he immersed himself in the book.

_The mind is a complicated aspect, as noted in previous chapters. With dream sharing, the target's mind automatically fills a place of secrets, of memories, but more importantly of internal conflict. However, this all may be unknown to the target itself. For example, the target says that their fear of spiders is limited and completely normal if at all existent. Well, the extractor may delve into the memories of this individual and find evidence that the feat is indeed irrational all because they found a spider in their bed when they were eight years old. __These memories and such information seem useless to one, but the world to others. By traveling deeper and deeper it is essential to wait for the entire rotation of the memory of scenario which is presented. Memory projections can be interactive, semi-interactive, or non-interactive (ghost phase). Interactive the characters can see the individual and force him or her out of the area through (most often) violent means. Semi-interactive is normally most often in simple scenes, where there are one or two characters present. At this point, the individual (extractor) may talk to the memory and discover it's symbolism. In non-interactive, the extractor is merely a viewer and cannot play any part in the memory. _

Arthur slammed the book shut, and ran a hand through his onyx hair. This explained so much to him, Ariadne could tell him one thing, and the memories another. This girl, no, this woman seemed to become more and more complicated by the minute. Which, he could not deny, pulled him in. He often would find himself entranced by the way she spoke with such imagery and vision, or the way she would sit all curled on the sofa and use her hands to emphasize words. The mere thought of the young architect made him smile, the tugging at his lips brought him life and new expression, something both of which the young point man was in dire need of.

He was a "Stick-in-the-mud" according the Eames, the British Forger who had a knack for getting into trouble. Especially with casino owners. Noticing the wall clock read the time 11:00pm Arthur picked himself up and relocated to his bed once again. Where he almost fell asleep immediately, but not before thinking of his following day with another round of questions between him and the lovely architect.

Arthur found himself sitting on the familiar couch in the warehouse almost too soon. His night had seemed restless with his constant blatant but unexplained interrupted sleep. He held back a tired yawn as he rubbed his weary eyes. He looked up when the door opened revealing a tired looking Ariadne. She looked flawless, to him as per usual, she looked snug in her black leather jacket and red sweater but there was a fogginess in her eyes that told Arthur that she too had not achieved much sleep the previous night.

Before she sat down Arthur stood up, he met her eyes and immediately flashed back to the seven year old Ariadne who cried her bright hazel eyes out on that particular day. Snapping out of his brief daze he put down his pen and file, checked the time and smirked lightly.

"I don't know about you but I could do with some coffee," he said smoothly as though he had rehearsed the line one hundred times in the bathroom mirror (which he hadn't...well, not one hundred times anyway). "Shall we?" He asked, in an almost joking tone, extending his hand. Ariadne gave him a large grateful smile and accepted his hand playfully.

"We shall," she declared. Dropping his warm hand as she grabbed her purse, Ariadne walked back out of the warehouse with the Point Man. Coffee, seemed like a great idea.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: And this is what happens when I can't sleep. Though it's right on time, it's currently just coming up to four in the morning and I have to get up to start my day! Well, kind of. It's a long story. Just like this chapter! This will probably be the last update before school starts. **

**Enjoy! And everyone; good luck at school if you have/haven't started yet. Together, let's make this year a good one!**

**Please review:)  
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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 9: It's Okay_

Ariadne never ceased to marvel at the outstanding architecture which surrounded her. The slate brick roads seemed so characteristic that she loved seeing them merge into the smooth black top, concrete highways that stretched beyond her line of sight. She inhaled deeply, the sweet aroma of the local bakery leaked into the air, filling it with the scent of fresh muffins and scones. Ariadne's stomach gave a slight rumble as she chuckled lightly at her stomachs loud groan.

She peered up at the buildings, they were simple and sleek, but at the same time held a classical elegance which resonated a feel of old Renaissance or contemporary with traditional inspiration. The building she was passing she automatically loved. The edges of the building were trimmed slightly by intricate, golden slabs of wood. The door and windows had high arches, looking out across the lake where small boats streamed carelessly along. Ariadne hugged her leather jacket closer to herself as the bitter autumnal wind breezed by her. She felt the inner lining of her jacket, it was so cozy and warm she hardly ever wanted to take it off.

Sitting down at a nearby coffee hut, all she could do was run her elegant fingers across the smooth surface of her quaint golden bishop, and wonder what Arthur was doing in this dreamscape, far off.

Ah, Arthur, she would find herself thinking of the young Point Man more and more often. Ariadne would recall the smell of his spicy cologne, or the way his sleek maroon tie warmed his deep brown eyes. The eyes which she couldn't help but emerge herself if its chocolate depth. They were so precise, cunning, experienced but joyful. When she would catch Arthur peering at her, she would see a deep twinkling that would shine through his orbs. She smiled at the mere thought of the attractive man who she had worked with for so long. And yet again, they were working. Ariadne curled up in the small chair at the café, curious as to know what Arthur would be finding out about her.

Arthur eased along the streets, only to find Ariadne's projections noticeably happier in his current setting. He took note of this because he had constructed this setting in an attempt to reflect Paris architecture. The subconscious seemed more at home here, than what it did with his suburban layout. He could not help but be intrigued by this discovery, but had little time to dwell considering he needed to find the secure location in which Ariadne would secure her memories in. He walked swiftly, weaving an and out of the crowds with agility. But, much to his dismay, there was no bank nor jail in sight.

Strolling along, slightly angry at this revelation, he pondered where this memory could be located. He heard the distant gong of a school bell, and found his feet moving him there. It was curious. Yes, that was the word. Curious. Why would anyone think that their memory, or prized ideas and thoughts would be safe in what seemed like a colonial looking school. The building looked small, and it was as Arthur entered it discreetly. He closed the doors quietly behind him and strolled along the lengthy hallway. His shoes made this same clicking noise they had against the hardwood floors. He had forgotten the carpet.

The floors were scuffed up, and in need of a definite polish. Scratches, most likely from shoes of the young school children, tarnished the cherry toned would. He took the moment to just stop. He paused in his walking, and closed his dark eyes. He let his lids conceal his irises and inhaled slowly. The air smelled sweet. But, he cared not of that, but rather the distant ding he heard in the otherwise exceedingly silent, small school. Without thinking twice, he bolted towards the elevator sound. Curiously enough, he was not intercepted by security this time, though received a very frightened look from a passing by teacher who stared and the strange man, running down another hallway.

He was able to reach the elevator, he quickly enclosed himself in the doors, and pressed the Level 2 button. It lit up a pasty orange color, and the contraption jolted into movement. And while he mentally prepared himself, it was beyond shocking, what Arthur saw, as soon as the wood-brown doors peeled away the scene before him.

Stepping out, he saw nothing, but blank space. It was like he was secluded to one corner of a very large room. And sitting in the crease of that corner, when one stark white wall met the other, sat a little girl. She was perhaps ten years of age, and was sitting contently. She had on a denim skirt with pink polka dot tights and a similar looking shirt. Her hair was long, and streamed in curly waves right down to her small, child waist. And the second Arthur made one move further into the room, he was met by a pair of blazing hazel eyes.

"Hello," child Ariadne said. There was a box of crayons laying next to her. She looked inside the bright yellow container and pulled out a small stick that was an indigo- blue color. Ariadne took the crayon, and started to draw on the walls.

"Hello," replied Arthur, uncomfortable with the situation. He looked around, did a complete circle only seeing the two endless white walls expand for what seemed like forever.

"You won't find anyone," the little girl remarked cleverly. She placed the indigo back in the ten-pack box of crayons. She brought out the forest-green. "No one is ever here," she said with a sadness in her voice.

Arthur stepped forward, his footsteps never sounding so loud. They seemed to echo all around him, eventually disappearing in the nothingness of the room. "May I join you?" He asked the girl who simply nodded, while she brushed a bit of her hair out of her face.

After a while of Arthur watching Ariadne color on the walls, he found that he was losing precious time. "Why are you all alone?" He asked her. She continued with her coloring as she spoke, trading in the green, for the canary-yellow.

"Because, no one ever wants to be around me," she said quietly. She drew a bright yellow sun over the landscape she had drawn. "Mommy is always out, and I never see my Daddy anymore. And since Mommy is always gone I never get to see my friends. I don't have many friends," she said. She gave the sun thick rays of sunshine which seemed to glow right off the wall.

"Do you like being with friends?" Arthur asked.

"Oh yeah!" Replied the girl in a chipper tone. "My friends are the best, there's Vanessa, and Jacob, and Timmy, and Nicole, and there mommies are real nice too!"

Arthur stared in bewilderment at the girl. He was trying to figure out this thought of Ariadne's out. And how he would use it to classify and personalize her training. Though before he could ask another question, there was a powder-blue right in front of his face.

"If you're going to stay here, you need to help me color Mister….?" She said with a cute smile, her tone trailing off in slight confusion.

Taking the crayon, he replied. "Arthur."

"Mister Arthur!"

"No, no Ariadne. Just Arthur," he smiled at her and crossed his legs just like she was. He followed her instruction and colored the sea in the blue color he had been provided with. "So Ariadne, why?"

"Why what Arthur?" She asked, she was working on a distant skyline, drawing small rectangles as buildings in the charcoal-black crayon.

Arthur decided to take another approach, she was only ten after all. "How do you feel right now Ariadne?"

The silence was heavy. Ariadne had stopped coloring, and her arm had dropped uselessly to her side. She tilted her head down, almost in shame, until her chin was resting against her pink polka- dot shirt. She said one word. One word that stuck in Arthur's mind. It was the significance of this role, of this setting.

She looked at him, with tears welling up in her eyes. She dropped the crayon carelessly on the floor, and stood up. She took small, baby steps towards Arthur. She sat crossed legged across from him, her knees almost touching his. "Can I call you Artie?" Ariadne asked him.

Arthur almost physically winced at the scorned nickname. But he nodded all the same, only to notice that Ariadne was crying even harder now, though she tried desperately not to let it show, leading to the eventual fact that her face was hidden completely by her two- slightly crayon smudged- hands.

"Artie…" she started slowly. Only to be interrupted by a sob finding its way out of her throat. Arthur, felt his heart give a painful pang. Especially as he thought of the previous scene with her parents messy divorce. He took the small girl and situated her in his lap. Ariadne's small body looked cradled in his long legs. He sat her on of his crossed knees, allowing her feet to rest on the other. He took her hands away from her face and gave her a look which suggested for her continuation.

"I feel so lonely," she said in almost a whisper. Then, it all suddenly clicked inside Arthur's head. After the divorce of her parents, Ariadne felt lonely and abandoned. He felt pity for the small girl who had ceased her crying by this point. All she was left with was herself, no friends or family for comfort or company. It would not seem that bad at first, but going days starved without interaction can be seriously detrimental for an individual, not matter how small.

"Hey, hey," he said stroking her hair. He wanted to protect this part of Ariadne, for it seemed to be one of her major insecurities. Caught up in the moment, he did not notice the echo of music in the background. "It's okay, you're not lonely anymore. I'm here, I'll be your friend." He said. It seemed almost uncharacteristic of him, but he knew. Oh yes, Arthur knew what it felt like to be lonely. He thought of all the times he was on the run, going around the world with nothing but his memories for company.

Ariadne turned in his lap, a big smile plastered on her small, round face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him lightly. "You're a good friend Artie," she said with a slight giggle.

Though all Arthur heard was the alarm being emitted from the silver brief case. He looked around him, only to see Ariadne slowly rising from her sleeping position. Her short, cropped hair was tussled lightly, she took a deep breath. Arthur couldn't help but stare rudely. He soon took his loaded die from his pocket, and rolled in on to the glass table between them. As soon as the lucky number three rolled up, he took it in his hand again and inhaled deeply. They were in the warehouse, in California. He was Arthur and she was no longer ten years old. Though whenever he made contact with her curiously beautiful hazel eyes, he could not help but feel the familiar pang of pity for all the young, petite woman- the woman he thought was indestructible with her stubborn attitude and cunning strength she had exemplified the first time they worked together- seemed so different to him now.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello- Well this is long over due. But I do hope it is sufficient for the time being.**

**Please, enjoy, and review. My apologies for it being so dreadfully late. Thank you for the favorites/alerts though:)  
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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 10: I've Watched_

Ariadne was plagued with questions that very same evening. She continued to relive the familiar jolt that was brought about as she saw Arthur desperately clutching his totem; the thing that connected him to the real world. Surely, her subconscious had not been too brutal on him, making him hold on to the die for near life the moment they were sent out of the dream. Surely, he had not seen something from her subconscious that was terribly personal and would make him feel that surge of emotion. She had never seen him look as vulnerable as he did in those few moments.

It was a perplexing thought. And Ariadne's head was raging with curiosity, as it normally did. She accompanied herself home that evening, as opposed to Arthur joining her in the walk to her hotel that was conveniently located near their discreet warehouse. She ventured through the comforting lobby, and it was bustling with people. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark, looming figure... Fearing the worst, she attempted to send the man on a wild chase, as she weaved in and out of the packs of people.

Though the figure remained in her peripheral vision at all times. Following her through the thick crowds of people. Ariadne dared not to even try to go up to her room. This person, whomsoever they were, was following her. Stalking her. Ariadne attempted to remain calm, and quickened her pace as she wound to the back hallway of the hotel. The crowd of people had thinned, and the hallway was near deserted apart from a lonely member of the Janitorial Staff, who walked by her aimlessly.

Down the hall, Ariadne led herself into the woman's restroom. As she briskly walked down the hall, she noticed the absence of the live shadow. Heading in to the bathroom, Ariadne crammed herself into one of the cramped stalls. The air was filled with the harsh chemical smell of cleaning products. The toilet paper had been restocked, and the latrine that was against the wall of the stall was a pearly white color.

With a moment to spare, Ariadne realized that her heart was beating rapidly inside her chest, and that her breathing was becoming ragged and harsh. Ariadne attempted to calm her heart, but nothing she tried would cease the blood that pounded through her ears and into her head. She felt the rush, and was instantly dizzied by the fact that she was being followed, like a doe being stalked by a hunter.

Quickly after regaining some of her composure in the small bathroom compartment, Ariadne whipped out her phone. Her hands were shaking and she found it suddenly difficult to type on the small keys. Water welled in her eyes from the panic and anxiety and she quickly sent a message to Arthur.

'_I think I'm being followed, I'm safe for the time being but I don't know what to do next.' _The message said. After sending it, Ariadne pulled the cover down on the toilet and took a seat. She patiently waited his reply, and wondered how long it would be until the man would figure out that she was in the restroom. The panic rose back into her and Ariadne felt herself bite back more anxious tears.

'_Where are you? I'm being followed as well.' _His message read in reply. She could imagine his calm, cool, and collected voice saying the same thing had this been in person. She could imagine his stoic face with a twist of curiosity, and a small amount of anger. She could imagine it all so vividly. And that did nothing to ease her pounding heart.

Ariadne promptly replied her location within the hotel.

'_Stay there for about two minutes, and then make your way to the back parking lot. I'll be there in three minutes.' _Ariadne sent an affirmative answer, and timed the two minutes exactly using her phone. She blinked back whatever tears had formed in her eyes and waited. She exited the stall and examined her appearance in the mirror. The was fussing with her jacket, her blouse, her earrings, her hair. Her eyes were so clearly filled with anxiety, and her lips had worked their way into a nervous pout.

It was a long two minutes.

A part of her wondered what would happen if she were to barge out of that restroom immediately, though, the dominant side of her stayed put and waited. As the two minutes came to an end, Ariadne walked out of the restroom with a stealthy strut of feigned confidence. She tried to look impassive as she exited the bathroom. It was not long for the figure to regain its position in her peripheral vision. She took the immediate left that led to the back parking lot, and turned her head.

Her stalker had cropped brown hair, and tan skin. His eyes were small, and were oriental in eye shape. She could see a snarl forming on his lips, and his long legs carried him faster towards the petite brunette. Ariadne picked up her brisk walk into a run; she was almost . . . almost there. She could see the parking lot through a glass door and within a blink of an eye, a shiny black car pulled up in view of it. Ariadne willed her feet to travel as fast as they could in her suddenly uncomfortable heels, she could hear the man gaining speed behind her.

Ariadne felt her fingers brush the cool metal of the door knob, and she was ever so close to the outside, to escaping, when she felt a harsh yank on her hair. She cried out in the pain that was sent through her scalp. The pull was just powerful enough to jolt her backwards, and onto the ground. She looked around her, the hallway was empty. Ariadne attempted to get up, but the man just pushed her back to the ground once more. Ariadne thought she heard a crack emit from her body as she tried to catch herself, but paid no attention to it as a sense of pure panic flooded her system entirely.

She propped herself up on her elbows, her lower back resting gently on the ground. She could see Arthur stealthily getting out of the car so that his aid could be as discreet as possible. The man stood in front of Ariadne, his back to the door in the narrow hallway.

"So you figured out I was your little follower." The man said in an angry tone. Ariadne glared as an attempt to hide the fear that resided in her eyes.

"Perhaps you should pursue another career option," she said coldly. She resisted looking at Arthur through the glass door. She heard in open and as the hinges let out a deafening _squeak_, Ariadne's follower slowly turned his head to look behind him. But Arthur's fist collided with the unknown mans' face.

The man bent over in pain, his face becoming red, and his fists balling up in preparation to retaliate.

Ariadne shot up from her laying position on the ground, and backed away from the fight. The follower was ready to return Arthur's punch with one of his own before he heard a gun being cocked next to his head. The man put his balled up fist down, and slowly stood up straight.

"Who sent you?" Arthur demanded to know. He had a menacing look in his eyes, and he held the small gun with confidence. The stalker glared at Arthur, and his eyes flickered to Ariadne. She remained backed up against the wall, her clothes disheveled and her short hair was awkwardly sticking up at the back.

Arthur pressed the gun into the mans forehead. "Who sent you?" He repeated in a dark tone.

The stalkers gaze returned to Arthur. He stared at the point mans face, then the gun that was being shoved against his temple.

"Saito."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello all! So sorry that this is late, and quite honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Be warned, its pretty much a filler. Pardon any mistakes, I remain to be my own editor. Kindly point them out in a review if you feel so obliged to do so. Thank you for all the favorites/ reviews/ alert listings. It's truly a humbling experience. **

**Enjoy! And Reviews are immensely appreciated:)  
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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 11: Through Rows_

"Saito."

Arthur stared at the man in pure disbelief. The angry expression evaporated from his features and was replaced with a blank look. Ariadne could tell that his mind was working rapidly, and as Arthur squinted his eyes ever so slightly, confusion became increasingly more apparent on his face, though, he did not lower the gun from the stalkers forehead.

The three people stood.

The silence was suffocating, and squeezed each individual as though glass walls were closing in on them. The hallway suddenly seemed cramped, and the air felt heavy and thick with sweaty humidity equivalent to the atmosphere on a broiling summer day. The rigid posture of each person was so mannequin-like that as a small film of sweat formed on Ariadne's brow. Her skin shined slightly, similar to that of the department store clothing doll.

Arthur removed his questioning gaze from the stranger, and flickered his eyes from Ariadne, and to the car outside.

"Come on, let's go," Arthur said in a commanding voice. He grabbed the shirt on the stalker's shoulder, and shoved him roughly in the direction of the door, his gun remaining out and at the ready. The point man vaguely gestured for Ariadne to follow. Wiping the back of her hand against her forehead, Ariadne gulped quietly and followed the two men, a slight sense of hesitancy in her step.

"Ariadne, you're going to drive. I'll feed you directions from the back," Arthur instructed her as the trio approached the black car. The soft purr of the running engine was emitted from the vehicle. Ariadne nodded diligently in a response to Arthur and situated herself in the drivers seat. She moved the seat all the way forward, and quickly adjusted her mirrors. She saw Arthur and the stranger sitting in the back, their two tall masses slightly blocking her view out the back window. She caught Arthur's stare in her rear view mirror. He gave her a slight nod, and Ariadne took off to join the speeding California traffic.

"Where are we going?" She asked at the stop of the red light. The traffic of the intersection zoomed passed her in a colorful blur of speed and sound.

"Saito has headquarters stationed downtown. We're meeting with him, now." Arthur replied promptly. His hand was still tight on the gun, and was pressed against the stranger's side. "Take a left on Glisten Avenue, it's the one after this intersection." Arthur instructed her.

Ariadne found it difficult to drive, her left wrist was oddly stiff and ached ever so slightly. But now was not the appropriate time to complain, though the discomfort was apparent on her focused face. She turned onto the street, and continued to follow the point man's directions. Ariadne cruised along the highway, sped through residential areas, and watched diligently for oncoming traffic. It was within the hour that Ariadne pulled up to the towering skyscraper.

The building was a typical silver box, with windows that winked flirtatiously in the hot sunshine. The square platform was extended to an incredible height. Ariadne quickly parked the car, and the trio walked briskly as a unit through the entrance. Ariadne's heels clicked against the glossy tiled floors. The gears in her mind were working furiously, she hardly registered her surroundings, and only followed Arthur's decisive lead.

_Why would Saito send someone to track us? He should have enough reason to trust us, shouldn't he? He said that this was a minor favor, and that we could have a longer period of time. What could he possibly want? The mission has only been in full swing for, what?, a week?, perhaps two? _

Ariadne's thoughts became more and more crazed with each step she took.

_What does he want? Is he expecting results? What if he wants to attack my mind? What will he do to me? What if he's not pleased? No, no. Arthur wouldn't let him, he'll defend me. _

"_Level Twenty- Three," _the cool voice of elevator stated. The platinum doors glided open, and revealed the man in charge himself. He stood in the middle of the hallway, his custom suit tailored to his slim build and his eyes glinting with superiority.

"Good day, now if you would all care to follow me," he said. And without waiting for a response, he led the way through his headquarters. Secretaries were busy at work on their computers. Several were on the phone, and only on the rare occasion would one look up to glance at the group of flustered individuals walking through the passageways.

Arriving in Saito's office, Ariadne took note of the blossoming orchids that lined the walls, the rich mahogany wood detailing that surrounded his large desk. The overall tidiness of the room that made it look like a magazine cut out. Saito gestured for the trio to take a seat, and Ariadne did so shakily. Carefully she lowered herself to the plush chairs, and sat rigidly. Her hands were restless in her lap as she kept wringing her fingers, rubbing her palms, and gingerly touching her aching wrist.

"Saito, I do hope you have an explanation for this," Arthur began in an icy tone. His words were biting, and he leaned forward in his seat.

"Calm yourself, my excuse is completely valid." Saito merely said. "But before we get into details, Chen, you are dismissed, thank you for your services." He stared at his henchmen who simply nodded his head and left the room idly. As the door closed quietly, Saito sat down in his own majestic chair, crossed his legs and folded his hands.

"Now, as I was saying. My excuse is completely valid and understandable. I just needed to. . . Protect my investment if you will." Saito said simply.

"And why would you need to go through such lengths?" Arthur pressed him.

"Like I said, to protect my investment. I need to make sure the job is getting done, and might I say you are surely taking your time." Saito replied confidently.

"Training a mind, especially one as complex as Ariadne's is extremely time consuming and complicated! The intricacies of the brain is not something that can be rushed, surely I thought you were capable of understanding this."

"I rather do understand what is at risk, but I have to ensure that I am getting what I am paying for. I merely sent an agent for …. Reassurance if you will. Saito replied. His tone was that of a classical businessman. Arthur glared at him, and looked over at Ariadne. She was staring at the floor, playing with her fingers. She ran a hand through her hair, tucking short strands behind her ear as an act of nervousness. And in this state of vulnerability, Ariadne appeared to resemble her college self. Arthur returned his attention to Saito.

"What you fail to understand here, is that this project is not your investment. Ariadne is your investment Saito. And in the end, she is the one who controls the end result, not you nor I."

Ariadne snapped her head up at the sound of her name. She glanced at Saito before she turned her head to Arthur. He stared at her with a reassuring expression. Arthur stood up, and Ariadne followed his lead. Gently, Arthur gestured and guided Ariadne towards the exit of the office. Standing by the door, the young point man turned back towards his employer.

"We shall continue with the assignment. Be assured that your investment is being well taken care of, so there will be no need for further interference. Thank you for your time," Arthur finished. And quickly walked out the door with a quiet and anxious looking Ariadne.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you for the positive feedback, its really appreciated! Just the amount of views/visitors this story has had in the past couple days is overwhelming and flattering. Thank you very much!**

**Anyway: please review and I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own _Inception _nor the song _Speeding __Cars.  
><em>**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars <span>_

_Chapter 12: Far Enough Away_

Ariadne opened the front door of her home. She dropped her backpack to the floor and put her house keys onto a nearby table carelessly. She slipped off her muddy sneakers and walked through her home towards the sound of escalating voices that were in the living room.

"I'm telling you Helena, you've been much better off once you got rid of him! Look at you now, you're so much happier!" Ariadne's grandmother claimed. She rested on the comfortable auburn and red arm chair. The very same arm chair that if the bottom cushion was turned over, a dark, mud colored stain could be seen. All because Ariadne unsuspectingly jumped onto Jack's lap one morning and caused the cup to empty on the chair as well as pants of her father. Yes, it was the very same chair, and normally it remained eerily vacant. No one seemed to be able to fill the chair quite right. Why? Well, it was _his _chair. And _his _chair alone.

Ariadne had never been too fond of her maternal grandparents before, and so, her usually shy personality became increasingly hostile with one look at her grandmother's lined face. Helena, Ariadne's mother, sat on the opposite sofa, looking out into the backyard with a cup of tea in her hands.

"Ariadne! Back from school already? How rude of you not to say hello!" Her grandmother chided her. Ariadne said nothing. Helena didn't even turn back to look at her daughter.

"Hello dear," her grandfather said monotonously.

"Hello grandma, grandpa, mom," Ariadne said stiffly. She held nothing against her grandparents. Really, she didn't. However, the way that the pair would talk about her father was deemed unacceptable to her long ago.

"You know Ariadne, if you would stop wearing such manly clothes maybe we'd be able to see what a lovely young woman you have become. And that you're not following in that man's pathetic footsteps," her grandfather scolded her lightly. The fifteen year old looked down at her loose jeans, and how her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled up behind her in a messy, lazy way.

"Well you know, it's the style nowadays, so I like my clothes just fine." Ariadne bit out in a falsely sweet tone. Her grandfather brushed away her comment, as though Ariadne hadn't said anything. Instead, grandmother Stacey continued to talk about her daughters ex-husband.

"What is he doing nowadays anyway? Probably laying in some cheap motel somewhere, couldn't get back on his own two feet after the divorce. Hah! How many years ago was that? Eight! Eight long years ago. And look how far you've come Helena!"

That was a joke. Helena was a broken down person filled with regret, but was too proud to admit it. She couldn't even engage in conversation, and hardly was any help to her daughter. No, Ariadne grew up independent because of her hollow mother.

"He's actually has his own architecture firm, which is doing quite well. He's expanding." Ariadne stated boldly, as she looked her grandmother straight in the eyes.

"And tell me Ariadne, what do you plan on doing as a career?"

Ariadne smirked, she turned to leave the room and called over her shoulder: "Why, architecture of course." She proceeded into her bedroom, which was now painted a taupe color. Above the dresser, there was a collage of college brochures and pictures. A giant picture of the Eiffel Tower, followed by smaller pictures of the famous landmarks and old buildings located in France. Ariadne looked at her wall fondly, and for the first time that day she cracked a smile. On her chest was a picture of a man, her father. She gently blew him a kiss, and stroked the picture frame lovingly. Sighing, she stared up at her wall yet again, and soaked in all the pictures of the college campus. Only two more year until she could live out her dream in the wonderful school of architecture.

"I can't wait to get out of here."

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><p>Arthur breathed in deeply as he awoke. He had survived another layer of Ariadne. Arthur rubbed his eyes gently and stroked his face. He saw Ariadne doing similar movements on the couch opposite to him. He remained silent, but the expression of pure worry spoke volumes to Ariadne.<p>

"Arthur?" She finally started. He looked up at her, making eye contact with her piercing hazel orbs. "What are you seeing, you know, down in my subconscious?"

In theory, the question was rather simple. But Arthur found himself tongue tied and had a hard time pairing the right words together in order to adequately form and answer for Ariadne. But deep down, Arthur knew that he didn't want to answer her question. For fear of being too intrusive, therefore, shattering any chance of growth in their friendship. And secretly, Arthur liked knowing things about Ariadne, things that she may not even know about herself. She intrigued him, with her complex development of behavior. And how her mind was so creative and perceptive. Watching Ariadne grow up was something he would have never been able to witness otherwise, and it made Arthur feel…special. For want of a better word, Ariadne made Arthur feel special. And so, Arthur carefully digested the girl's, no, woman's question.

"To be honest, I don't know. Your projections act out memories, sometimes strong emotions that you felt at a time period. It's confusing, because they're all so spaced out. Once I experience one, I feel like I have you analyzed perfectly. And can start using defense mechanisms. But then, I extract new information, and everything changed it seems. You're like a difficult equation. You pose a challenge, and have such complexity, but at the same time, I know that there's got to be more than one way to solve it." Arthur finished in his smooth, business toned voice. However, he wanted to smack his palm to his forehead, _compare her to a math problem, _he thought sarcastically, _very smooth. Absolutely genius Arthur. _

Ariadne stared at him, her mouth was slightly ajar. Arthur could see the full shape of her lips, and how the top part was slightly raw from nervous lip biting. A light dusting of color sprinkled across her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. Though, Arthur could see the beginnings of a smile etching its way across her lips. Arthur stood up, and gathered his things.

Tie securely fastened, briefcase in hand, Arthur made his way to leave. Ariadne had yet to say anything, and instead played nervously with her hands, her forehead was creased in concentration.

Arthur was almost out of the warehouse when he heard his name being called. He turned his head back, and saw Ariadne standing at the other side of the room. Her hands were in knots, and she had a curious expression on her face.

"Did you mean it? Did you mean what you said back at Saito's office, how I'm the 'investment'?" She suddenly asked in a half yelling voice. She obviously noticed how much importance he gave to her, how much power he was willing to put into her hands.

Arthur gave her a half smile, and couldn't help but think how innocent and nervous she looked while asking him a question. It was endearing.

"No, I didn't," he stated. He watched Ariadne's shoulders sag slightly. And as much as she tried to hide the look of disappointment off her face- Arthur could tell that she was. She stared down at the floor.

"You're worth much more than that Ariadne," he finally said. And just before he left to face the hot California sun, Arthur saw the pink tinge on Ariadne's cheeks and the astonishment in her eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Please enjoy this brief chapter. I hope to post more soon!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Inception _nor the song _Speeding Cars _**

**Your feedback means an incredible amount. **

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><p>Chapter 13: <em>Glistening In <em>_  
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_"It will be a great way to loosen up. Especially after last week," he persuaded her smoothly. He grabbed her hands softly and smiled down at her, alluringly. Ariadne was shocked at his open flirtation, but a small feeling of dread continued to remain in her._

_"I don't know, shouldn't we be working? We don't have much to show for progress." She bit her lip nervously and __fidgeted, thinking about Saito's stalker still managed to send shivers down her spine uncomfortably._

_"Ariadne, let me worry about that. Plus I think Saito owes us a little after that episode, don't you think?" Arthur's charm was undeniable. He tightened his hold on her hands, and allowed her hands to be completely enveloped by his own._

_Ariadne smiled shyly, and looked at her hands being caressed in an almost possessive, but charming manner. She peered up at him through her brown eyelashes and saw his gleaming eyes staring back at her. He had a hopeful, childish smile that Ariadne, at this point, could not resist. She sighed playfully, and sent Arthur and glistening smile of her own. _

_"Alright, alright. Dinner it is."_

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><p>Ariadne smoothed out the wrinkles in her pink blouse, and fixed the ruffles in her snug scarf. Glancing over at the clock Ariadne saw that it was nearing six in the evening, any moment now, Arthur would be at her door waiting to take her on, what was sure to be, a wonderful date.<p>

Thinking about the young point man seemed to make her heart flutter nervously. She felt her palms get sweaty, and began to fidget with her scarf incessantly. Ariadne took deep breaths and turned on the television in her hotel room. She watched a small amount of the news, not really absorbing anything of what was going on. Was it six o'clock yet? She was excited to finally get to be with Arthur in a non- professional setting. Again, she fidgeted with her white, chiffon scarf. She twirled the end of it around her finger out of boredom and began to flick through the channels.

She stopped on a television talk show. She rested her feet up on the sofa, and watched the entire episode. By the time she looked at the clock again, it was seven in the evening. A small seed of paranoia planted itself within Ariadne's mind. She began to wring her hands nervously, her palms starting to sweat. When another half- hour passed, Ariadne was pacing viciously in her room, her thumb nail was wedged firmly between her teeth as she stared down at her phone. The carpet had small gaps between the grains of material from where her heals had dug in, and the chair Ariadne had been sitting in was moved to one side to allow for more pacing. She could almost feel the floor beneath her gradually get weaker and weaker. The clock continued to tick by, and Arthur was still a no show.

At the end of another hour, Ariadne's high heels were forgotten in the corner, and her scarf was thrown haphazardly on the bed. Her fitted jeans were back in her suitcase, and sweatpants took their place. Ariadne held the phone, hesitantly, up to her ear. She had tried considered Arthur for several minutes, she was terrified that he was in danger. However, she didn't want to seem desperate or clingy. As worried as Ariadne was, she often had the habit of jumping to the worst conclusion and, at this point, Ariadne wanted to know if anyone had seen Arthur that day.

"Hello?"

"Eames! Hello, it's Ariadne," she spilled out over the phone in a rush. She took a moment and breathed deeply, her anxiety was getting the best of her. Her thumb found itself wedged between her death and she nervously bit her nail.

"Hello love, what can I do for you?" Eames said smoothly on the other side of the phone. His voice was so distinctive to Ariadne. Eames' posh British accent, and continuous slur from drinking too much painted a mental image of the forger in her mind. Ariadne could picture his chiseled face and scruffy beard, she could almost smell his aftershave and alcohol mixed scent.

"I was just wondering if you had heard from Arthur today?" She asked politely. Ariadne didn't want to seem desperate, nor paranoid. She tried passing her tone off as casual and nonchalant. Though, acting was never her strong suit.

"Oh, funny you should ask darling, I'm with the stick right now," Eames replied in a cocky tone of voice. Ariadne could hear Arthur scold Eame's very quietly over the phone. "He and I are working on a bit of your case right now, actually trying to figure out your method of defense. It's tricky because if we don't customize the defense to the mind, then the entire mission could be in jeopardy. We're just brainstorming over some brandy love."

Ariadne's heart sank. Had Arthur forgotten they had plans? Why wasn't she there with them? Why did he stand her up?

"Oh," she said. "Thank you Eames, I forgot that he told me that. I was expecting to hear from him earlier, no matter." Ariadne lied through her teeth, pretending that she wasn't upset by being stood up by the point man. Her fists clenched in anger and her voice became flat and blunt. "I should go. Plenty to do. Thanks again. Bye." And before Eames could say another word she hung up, tossed the phone onto the bed and collapsed in a chair.

Ariadne hadn't felt this way in a long time. Not since her freshman year of high school when her date to the Winter Ball stood her up. That same crushing feeling flooded through her, as well as embarrassment. She didn't need to care so much for what one man thought or did. But, she did. For some reason, Ariadne cared far too much about Arthur's opinion of her that she bit her tongue as she changed out of her outfit and crawled into bed for the night. The dilemma with the point man leaving a dull ache in her head and heart.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Please enjoy another installment of this! I seem to be on a minor posting- frenzy. **

**Enjoy and please follow/ review. **

**Disclaimer: I own neither the movie, _Inception _nor the song, _Speeding Cars. _**

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 14: Of Guilt_

Arthur poured over his desk with his back hunched, and his hand hand supporting his forehead as he stared intensely at his notes. He kept comparing notes from every bit of information that Ariadne had provided him with. He would consult his written notes, the notes on his laptop, and then the think volumes of dream books. This continued for many hours, and finally resulted in Arthur collapsing against the plastic back of his chair with a heavy sigh.

Arthur rubbed his face harshly with the palm of his hands. He rubbed his tired eyes and massaged his aching head. He released sigh after sigh, each one sounding more exhausted and frustrated. He could not figure her out.

And it was driving him insane.

Arthur was rarely met with such a challenge. Normally clients had a simple mind set, and the information that needed to be extracted was so straight forward. While no two clients were the same, they certainly weren't Ariadne. She was complex and different beyond his imagination. Her mind stretched beyond borders and held so much information, he was overwhelmed. Arthur was tempted to let out a yell of frustration as he attempted to draft a defense mechanism draft to refine, eventually, to be put into effect, much to no avail. How could he train a passive mind, a creative mind, and a brilliant mind to defend itself? Right away, Arthur knew the idea would need to be complex, much like his client.

His interviews with Ariadne were going well, as well as his extracted of material. However, often times, the interview would provide information that memories and dream information would easily refute. He took this as a sign of repression. Ariadne had convinced herself so hard of certain details, that they are truly fact to her, while her raw subconscious was more in tune with how she was feeling at every mile stone- life moment. He never knew so much about Ariadne, or anyone for that matter. Her story was intriguing and a puzzle.

Taking out his phone, Arthur called Eames to set up a meeting for that night. He needed inspiration and another opinion, and while Eames was no expert, or organized, he was sure to be some help.

A matter of minutes later, Arthur walked into a quiet bar. The inside was well furnished with dim lighting, and at the table sat the forger that Arthur had grown to respect, to a minimum level.

"Mr. Eames," Arthur greeted as he sat down next to the British forget. He ordered a drink and rested his elbows on the table, slouching over it in a tired manner.

"Long day?" Eames asked lightly as he downed another shot of whiskey. "Surely you can control Ariadne." Eames winked at the point man suggestively, who stared coldly in response.

"It would seem like I am indeed having difficulties with our…client."

"Client? Please Artie, don't shy away from your love. Everyone knows you started really liking the girl during the Fisher Mission," Eames said as he took another sip of a beer. He was blunt and getting increasingly drunk. Arthur took slow sips of his beer, trying to wash away the tension he had experienced only moments ago.

"She and I are work associates. It seems like her mind won't be very accepting to new forms of defense. Not like ours were at least." Arthur said professionally. He kept a stone cold face and ignored all of Eame's small jibes at him .

"Right, right. Well, Ariadne is a puzzle. And what fun is a puzzle, if you don't put the pieces together and then tear it up right away, only to make another puzzle?"

"What are you even saying Eames? Has the alcohol already rushed to your head?" Arthur's tone was harsh and impatient, but now was not a time to be talking in riddles. Arthur glared at Eames and took another sip of his drink. He loosened up his tie and unbuttoned the first button of his shit. He took long, deep breaths and rolled up his sleeves, giving him a more relaxed appearance.

"Let me see what you've got on her Artie," Eames said. Arthur handed him Ariadne's file and watched as Eames fingered through each a page of paper. Arthur tried to soothe his pounding head.

After many minutes, Eames reemerged from Ariadne's file.

"Well, we know what won't work. Militarized, or anything violent would not work at all very well with Ariadne. She's passive and seems to be open to given away to classic information. This is more common amongst women, because they tend to trust themselves with more secrets, and the secrets of others. However, there seems to be a lot of repression as well." Eames first commented. He stroked his scruffy beard.

"She's completed," Arthur commented.

"Oh yes, but you love it." Eames winked. "However, I think I have an idea as to what you can do." Arthur raised an eyebrow in interest.

"She's an architect and was able to pick up on this whole dreaming landscape with impeccable speed if I'm not mistaken," Arthur nodded, agreeing. "Well, I think that the best way for her mind to protect itself would be to alter the environment of the extractor. Change the layout, the maze. Fold her mind in on itself."

"I see, her mind wouldn't feel like it was being attacked that way, just creating. Which will bring about natural stimulation, therefore triggering her defensive instincts, making information harder to extract." Arthur said suddenly. Then, the pair of men both gave a slight jolt as Eames' phone rang.

"Hello?" He said. Arthur heard the mumbling over the phone and busied himself with another drink.

"Hello love, what can I do for you?" Arthur rolled his eyes. It was probably another bimbo of Eames' wondering where he will be spending his evening.

"Oh, funny you should ask darling, I'm with the stick right now," Eames replied in a cocky tone of voice. Arthurs ears perked up. Who would be asking for him? "He and I are working on a bit of your case right now, actually trying to figure out your method of defense. It's tricky because if we don't customize the defense to the mind, then the entire mission could be in jeopardy. We're just brainstorming over some brandy love."

Shit.

As Eames hung up the phone and stashed it in his pocket, Arthur hit his head on the table with an incredible forced. He grabbed his face frustratingly and let out a groan.

"I take it you know that was our lovely architect?" Eames asked, confused. "What's going on exactly?"

Arthur could not bare tell him, he knew he would be ridiculed. He had unintentionally stood Ariadne up. And any chance he had at getting close to her any time soon was officially out the window. Arthur downed a shot of brandy and hoped that Ariadne would forget this ever happened very soon, but then again, that was highly unlikely.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you for the support. It's absolutely great to know that so many are enjoying this story. I have been feeling particularly inspired the past few days, and I hope to keep things going. **

**Please do leave a review, they truly make my day. Please, let me know what you think of this one. It was a bit risky. **

**Thank you to the handful who reviewed my other chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the movie _Inception _nor the song _Speeding_ _Cars. _**

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 15: Just Bad Luck_

The gentle crashing of waves on the shore felt refreshing against her burning feet. She melted her toes further into the wet sand and let the water submerge her ankles. The water was ice cold and refreshing, as a warm breeze encompassed her from every angle. Looking out over the distance, she saw that the sky was beginning to color itself with vibrant hues of pink and orange. The large sun was descending through the could very softly, make out the surface of the moon hiding amongst the rays of color.

It was heaven. Dreamlike.

She hugged her shawl closer to her shoulders, and felt a pair of arms wrap around her. The smell of clean musk and spice overwhelmed her senses pleasantly. She melted in his slim, toned arms, and felt his warm breath on her neck. His face brushed against her short hair gently, and Ariadne had never felt more secure, or loved, in what felt like a lifetime.

She turned around to her lover and took in his sharp features. His small cunning eyes, and pointed jawline. His hair was messy and his skin held a golden tan from spending endless hours at the beach. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and tilted her head ever so slightly.

She could feel his breath on her mouth.

Then, she opened her eyes.

"Experimenting?" She heard. Ariadne opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She found Arthur's face close to hers and the ceiling of the warehouse behind him.

"Something like that," she stated bluntly as she took the I.V out of her arm gently and stood up. If only she could have had a few more moments in the dream world- it would have all been perfect, she would have been with Arthur, and she would have been able to ignore the fact that he didn't want to be with her.

They were silent for several moments. Ariadne had a hostile expression on her face, and was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed tightly. Her eyes examined the warehouse, looking anywhere but at the point man.

"Ariadne-."

"-Arthur." They said at the same time, and for the first time they made eye contact the atmosphere in the air grew, if possible, even heavier and increasingly awkward. "You go first," Arthur insisted her kindly, hoping that Ariadne would scold him, yell at him, say that she never wanted to see him ever again. It would be what he deserved, and he hoped it would eradicate the deep feeling of guilt that he held within himself.

Ariadne let out an impatient sigh. "Are we going to do anything today? Eames told me that you had made a breakthrough." Her voice was harsh and blunt. It was obvious that she was upset, but she chose to not give Arthur the satisfaction.

After a moment, Arthur shook his head. He should have known better, Ariadne had too much pride to yell at him. "Yeah, but I was thinking maybe we could discuss it over coffee?" He asked hopefully.

"This is serious Arthur. I would think of all people you would understand that. Plus, it's clear that you are very keen on separating business and pleasure," she said hastily. Her words were venomous, and Arthur was taken aback by her attitude.

"I am taking this seriously, I was just trying to make you, the client, a bit more comfortable. You did just wake up after all. Why were you going under on your own like that anyway?" Arthur challenged in a similar tone of voice.

"That's none of your business Arthur. If we're not going to do anything today, then I'll leave. I have other things to attend to." Ariadne collected her bag and began walking to the door. Arthur stood up and began to walk after her, yelling.

"We're not done here! We still have work to do!"

Ariadne slid open the large warehouse door, the daylight pierced through. She turned around as she stepped out, her hair whipping around her face wildly. Her hazel eyes were ablaze and glared at the point man viciously.

"You're forgetting one thing here. The customer is always damn right." She slammed the door and stomped away.

Arthur had half a mind to run after her, but instead he turned around, defeated. Slumping down at his desk he let out a large sigh. He had wanted to pick a fight with her, and ended up picking it over the wrong thing. He had wanted her to yell at him for his stupidity, not spit out venomous remarks with a cold voice. Though, there was something appealing about knowing there was a woman who could challenge him.

"Well done Arthur," he said to himself, bitterly. "Great job messing this up."

* * *

><p>She knocked on the door and waited patiently. Ariadne had finally calmed down on the long drive to the suburbs and sought the comfort of her old dear friend. She heard the pitter patter of several feet as the front door swung open, revealing a young girl in a bright blue dress.<p>

"Daddy?" The voice called out in hesitation. Before the girl's father could make it to the door, a young boy popped up behind his older sister. His hair was covering his eyes, and he tilted his face up to get a better look at the guest. Ariadne stood dumbstruck by the children, she had never met them in reality before, but she desperately wanted to hug them and hold them tight to her body.

"Daddy, there's a lady here to see you!" The boy yelled in a chipper voice. Dom Cobb came quickly and stood behind his children.

"Kids, what did I say about answering the door?" He mumbled under his breath, but then shook his head. He peered at his guest and smiled brightly. "Ariadne!" He exclaimed. He reached over his children and gave her a friendly hug. "I wasn't expecting you," he said as he gestured for her to come in.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I should have called," Ariadne apologized in a sheepish tone. She took off her light sweater and walked further into the home. The house she had seen in limbo was nearly identical to the one she walked through now. However, there were different pictures on the fridge, and crayons littered the floor as well as paper.

"Don't sweat it, I was just going to get started on dinner. You can join us," he invited her with a kind smile. Cobb had a couple more wrinkles, and an extra gray hair or two but he had never looked happier. "Of course, you know James and Phillipa," he stated. "Kids, this is your Aunt Ariadne, go on, say hi," he prompted his suddenly shy children. They stepped forward and gave her a slight wave. Ariadne smiled back. They stood for a few moments, slightly awkward and uncomfortable. James and Phillipa stared up at Ariadne curiously who kept shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Kids," Cobb started, "why don't you get back to coloring? Your Aunt and I have a lot to catch up on. Then we'll all clean up for dinner soon." As they left to indulge themselves in their field crayons and markers, Dom turned to the architect. She was unusually quiet and stiff, and Dom could tell that she had a lot on her mind. "And you, you could do with a glass of wine, some dinner, and I'm sure we have plenty to talk about." Cobb said to Ariadne who smiled gratefully and followed Dom to the kitchen.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I am really glad to say this story is really starting to get some following. I really encourage reviews, I love reading them and they urge me to write more. So please review!**

**This chapter was a slight filler, and comes into play later on in the story! Enjoy!**

__**Disclaimer: I own neither the movie, _Inception_ nor the song, _Speeding Cars. _**

**Song: Speeding Cars  
>By: Imogen Heap<br>Album: Goodnight and Go**

* * *

><p><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 16 Strong_

Ariadne walked into the kitchen and plopped herself on a barstool, collapsing like a broken doll she rested her head against the cool granite countertop. The next thing she heard was the sound of a glass hitting the tabletop. She looked up and saw the tall wine glass filled with a deep red fluid. She mumbled a thank you and began taking small sips, allowing the wine to roll soothingly down her throat as Dom tied on an apron.

"I'm so sorry," Ariadne began, "I have completely imposed. I am so terribly sorry. I really didn't know where else I could go." She said before taking another sip of wine.

Cobb laughed heartily. "That's alright Ariadne, you're practically like family." She smiled in response and sat quietly. She watched as Dom chopped through peppers and tomatoes.

"Would you like any help?" Ariadne offered quietly, still feeling guilty about intruding on Cobb's home. He smiled in a fatherly manner, and gestured for her to join him.

"There's another apron, top shelf of the closet behind me," he stated while he continued to chop up vegetables. She returned, and had the apron tied securely around her. He passed over his knife and vegetables and then began to rummage through the fridge. After a while of chopping and marinating, Cobb spoke up.

"I don't think you came all this way just to help me cook dinner Ariadne," he said with a smile on his face. "I appreciate it, but what's on your mind?"

Ariadne's face fell, and she revisited the fight she had with Arthur, her dream on the beach, and how he stood her up, and how she was tracked down by Saito. All those emotions came flooding back to her and overwhelmed her, she dropped her knife onto the cutting board, raised her hands to her face and began to cry.

"Oh Ariadne," Cobb said softly as he embraced her. Her cries were stifled by his shirt but her tears came strong. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's everything, no, it's Arthur. Stupid Arthur," she said in a choked tone of voice. She soon began to retell the story of how everything unfolded. She told Dom about how Saito was unconvinced by their progress, and how things seemed to be going so well between her and Arthur.

"I started to like him after the Fischer mission, and since then I haven't stopped. I can't seem to shake it, but he obviously has. And now, it's like the only place he and I are together are in my dreams," she told him. Her tears had subsided, but her face was still flushed. She snagged a tissue and blew her nose before sinking back onto the barstool. Cobb was listening, and continued to cook while Ariadne vented.

"I can't believe it," Cobb started.

"Can't believe what?"

"Arthur. That's so unlike him I swear. Then again, I've never really been involved in his love life, only on a few rare occasions." Cobb said, he grabbed his chin and rubbed it, thinking.

"Well, what times did you know about it?" Ariadne asked curiously.

"Oh, it was nothing. He's had a handful of relationships before, only one of them got really serious though. He hasn't had one for a while, I don't think, you know, with missions and all. Who has time for that? And plus, I think the situation with Mal and I scared him off a little bit. Plus, the one fiancé, when she found out what he did for a living, she couldn't accept it. And a few weeks later they called it off." Cobb explained to her. Ariadne's jaw dropped. Arthur had been engaged?!

"Kids! Time to wash up for dinner, please help set the table!" Dom called to his children. A few minutes later, the sound of the bathroom tap was obvious and soon, James and Phillipa filed into the kitchen.

And it was then, that Ariadne realized she had opened her mind and her heart to a man she didn't know anything about. She felt vulnerable and used. Who was Arthur? Ariadne couldn't even think of his last name, and it frustrated her that she was trusting this stranger to help her. Even as a co- worker, Ariadne didn't know the basics.

But then again, Arthur was…well, Arthur. And deep down, Ariadne knew that he was a good man and a business man. He was a stranger, but Ariadne still felt safe with him in the odd dynamic they had. Though, if she wanted any kind of real relationship she would need to crack his hard exterior, and find out who the real Arthur was. A side of her was hesitant, but another could not be more excited.

* * *

><p>"Lost in thought?" Cobb asked. The kids were finally put asleep and Ariadne and Dom were in the living room with cups of tea to wind down in the evening. Ariadne smiled sheepishly at him, and shrugged helplessly.<p>

"You're kids, they're really lovely Dom," Ariadne said after a while. "I swear, James will look just like you when he's older. And Phillipa has a great imagination," she said.

"Thank you, thank you. I think they've taken a real liking to you though. So, be sure not to be a stranger around here. You're always welcome Ariadne," Dom commented again. "So, tell me, have you been dreaming much? On your own I mean."

"Not really, I have more nightmares than dreams," Ariadne scoffed.

"Nightmares? Really?"

"Well, yeah. It's one reoccurring one really. It was when I was in limbo with you, and it was like I couldn't get out, it's so weird, but it captures that time so well I normally wake up thinking I'm back on the plane or the first level. It's strange," Ariadne explained between sips of tea. "What about you though? Have you been dreaming at all?"

Dom shook his head 'no.' "I don't think I ever will again. Sometimes the temptation to get back in the field is there, I won't lie. But, the need to be with James and Phillipa is greater than that. It's really great, I'll be at Phillipa's clarinet recital. And James' baseball games. It's a really good feeling Ariadne, thank you."

"For what?" Ariadne asked confused. She looked at Cobbs face and saw the tired face of her father. They had such similar mannerisms, it was shocking.

"Without you, I don't think I really would have made it through that mission. So thank you," he explained. His eyes were welling up ever so slightly, but he didn't cry.

"Well, you're welcome then," Ariadne smiled at him. "I think I should be going, it's already so late, i hardly noticed."

"If you think you're going to the city, alone, to your hotel room: which lets face it, isn't in that great of an area, you're insane. We have a guest room, you're staying. I don't want you walking around by yourself so late, there's some pretty crazy people out there." Cobb said.

Ariadne bursted out into laughter.

After many moments Cobb looked heavily confused. "What? What did I say?" He asked as he collected his and Ariadne's mugs.

"It's just-.. it's just you're such a…such a dad!" Ariadne said through her fits of laughter. After her giggles subsided, she sighed wistfully. "You remind me so much of my dad actually. And in that moment I could have sworn you were a different person."

Cobb smiled at her affectionately. He gathered her in a hug, and smothered her slightly. "All dads are the same, they care for their young."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This was quite a chapter. I was really torn on how I ****wanted to do this, so please let me how this was.  
>Review please&amp; thank you.<strong>

**Disclaimer: I own neither _Inception_ nor _Speeding Cars._**

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 17: Goodnight_

She took a deep breath, and slid the door open. Walking into the wear house she saw Arthur was asleep on the couch. He was in the same clothes as the previous day, where she had returned to the hotel and changed that morning. Arthur had bags underneath his eyes, his clothes were rumpled and his hair unkept. This was the most casual Ariadne had ever seen Arthur.

"Arthur," she said but he didn't even stir. Ariadne knelt down and brought her face close to his. She shook his arm while calling his name. Finally he woke up, his dark brown eyes jutted open in a panic. He quickly stood up and ended up tripped and falling back onto the sofa. He straightened his vest, and ran a quick hand through his hair.

"Ariadne," he said finally. "You're here." The atmosphere was, in one word, awkward. A silence pursued between them and left Ariadne feeling uncomfortable as she shifted weight from one foot to another. She ran her hand through her hair and felt it fall back into places.

"I was worried about you Ariadne," Arthur finally said while he was looking at the ground sheepishly. Ariadne's head snapped up to him and her pulse picked up bit by bit. She tried to resist having a flushed face and took deep breaths. "After we…, after you left I stayed in here for a while. I realized how much of an absolute asshole I was and then went looking for you. I couldn't find you anywhere, and you weren't picking up your phone so I assumed the worst. I was going to call Eames in the morning to see if he'd heard from you and ended up crashing here."

"Well I'm glad we can agree on your asshole- isn behavior," Ariadne smiled cheekily at him, and was relieved to see that he had a smirk on his face as well. "And I ended up paying a visit to Dom, and I'm sorry I didn't pick up my phone. I didn't think you would worry."

"Wouldn't worry?" Arthur took steps towards her slowly. He stood in front of her, closely. Ariadne could feel a slight warmth radiating off of him as her heart began to pound madly. "I was very worried. And I am also very sorry. I'm sorry about the fight, and I'm sorry about standing you up. I really didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry too. I took a meeting too personally, and I shouldn't had been as mad as I was. I don't have the best temper," she laughed lightly and took a step back. She brushed the date off as a meeting to make things less awkward between them. Though, in her gut, Ariadne knew that Arthur had taken a liking for her, she realized she couldn't give herself to someone she hardly knew.

"Anyways," she said after a while. "How about we get on with some work? Or we can just start tomorrow?"

"No, no, we can get going today. I was thinking I'd do another extraction. I don't want to build a defense just yet. The plan isn't perfect yet. Is that alright?" Arthur asked. Ariadne nodded and situated herself on one of the couches while Arthur brought out the silver brief case. Within moments, Ariadne was under.

* * *

><p>There was no elevator to take this time, but Arthur knew that he was deep inside Ariadne's mind. Arthur had to find his way around an unfamiliar city to a hospital. THe city bared no resemblance to any place, and was pure creation. The path to the hospital was complex, and maze like. He knew Ariadne was subconsciously trying to protect whatever he was about to see. Arriving in the hospital, he say that it was plain. The walls and doors were all bleach white, and ratty blue chairs littered the waiting room. He saw one young girl sprint through the halls, and realized it was Ariadne herself.<p>

She was in her early teens. She had torn jeans, sneakers, a ratty t -shirt and a baseball hat on. She was sprinting as fast as she could, and Arthur could see the worried expression on her face.

He followed the girl as she ran through the halls, trying his best not to call attention to himself. He followed her to a separate room where Ariadne sat down next to a man. This man was hooked up to monitors, and had tubes coming in and out of his body in every direction. His rich brown hair was dried out terribly. His skin seemed plastered to his face and had a gaunt like expression. He barely lifted his hand to greet Ariadne.

"Baby girl, love- bug. How you doing honey?" He asked her. His voice was scratchy, and he spoke slowly. He took deep breaths between each few words. The heart monitor was going steady behind him.

"Daddy," was all Ariadne could say before she burst into tears. "Daddy, please don't go. Please don't leave me!"

"Love- bug, I'm right here. I'm right here."

"Daddy, I'm not foolish. I heard the nurses talking to mom on the phone. Why? Why you dad? Don't people know that I need you?" Ariadne asked him through her tears. Arthur stood back, his mouth was shut tight and his chest was aching. He could see how raw Ariadne was. He could sense the desperation in her voice as she pleaded for her fathers life, and it tore him up completely. Had he known that Ariadne suffered through so much at a young age, from being abandoned, neglected, enduring a divorce, to this, he may have never asked her for the job. As professional as Arthur was, it was still difficult to see someone's worst moments.

"Baby, baby. Don't cry. Come on now, you're gonna make your old man cry. What happened was fate, and for whatever reason I wasn't meant to deal with anything else. This is just one stage in the game, you can't think I'm going to give up." Ariadne's father soothed her best he could. But even Arthur could tell that the man was lying through his teeth. "But I want you to listen to me okay? I have a lot to tell you."

Ariadne wiped away her tears, and grasped her fathers frail hand. He was still a young man, but he was so badly injured, that his accident aged him decades.

"Okay love- bug, here we go. Best life lessons I could give ya. You're gonna have a lot of ups and downs, but you're gonna be strong. You always have to remember to be a strong person, otherwise everything else can collapse. Like a building, you gotta have a strong foundation," he took a few moments to catch his breath. The tubes forced oxygen through his lungs, and each breath was becoming less of his own and more of the machines'.

"Another thing, don't think that my relationship with your mother is any stigma for what love is. Cause one day, you're gonna find a guy and fall in love. Don't let fear stand in the way of happiness. Take risks, be adventurous. Dream love-bug, you have to dream big and then even bigger!" Ariadne's tears had returned. She kept nodding her head again and again, and had a faint smile on her face.

"I promise Daddy, I will always dream and go after the things I want."

"Good, good. Now, when you find a guy, and don't give me that look little lady, you will one day. Sooner than you think. Make sure that he's a good man. Make sure that he treats you right, and lets you have a free mind. Make sure he makes you feel safe, because that's what's important. There's a lot of scary things in this world, so you need to keep that in mind. Make sure that he loves you and that you love him, very ,very much." Jack explained, he was heaving for air. Ariadne had a firm grip on his hand and scooted closer to her father. He was slipping. And Ariadne was frozen.

"Don't be afraid to dream a little bigger, okay?" Ariadne nodded.

"And don't forget about me, okay?" Again, she nodded.

"And remember me in my best, right?" Another nod.

"And remember that I love you, very much Ariadne. And that I care about you, okay?" She nodded.

"Good girl," Jack muttered. He took some deep breaths and closed his eyes. His eyes felt heavy, like they did when falling asleep.

There was silence. There was no beeping monitors, or breathing machines. The systems didn't hum annoyingly, and the bed didn't squeak when someone shifted their weight ever so slightly.

"Daddy?"

Arthur opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He saw Ariadne sitting in front of him, calmly taking out the I.V from her arm. Arthur felt like he just wanted to comfort Ariadne, but she wasn't the thirteen year old he had seen in her mind. Ariadne had already accepted her fathers death, but he still had so many questions about it. He saw a day that infinitely changed Ariadne's life and had shaped who she was. He was cutting too deep, and he knew it. If he wanted to, he could stop going through her mind now but a large part of him couldn't. He was addicted to her, and finding out more about her. She would never open up to him about her fathers death the way that he had seen it just now. He called it a day, and walked away from Ariadne with a heavy mind. Arthur knew he couldn't stop now, he was in too deep.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Another chapter! This wasn't originally planned but I thought it would serve as a pleasant filler. I hope you like it!  
>Thank you to those who have been reviewing and subscribing. It really means a lot, and I'm glad to see the positive attention this story is getting!<strong>

**Disclaimer: I own neither the movie, _Inception,_ nor the song, _Speeding Cars. _**

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 18: No Sleeping_

"Love-bug, where are you hiding?" The deep voice called out to her. She giggled from her hiding spot underneath the kitchen table.

"I wonder where Ariadne could possibly be! Is she in the pantry? Is she hiding in the curtain?"

Ariadne put her small hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her high pitched giggles. She began to squirm with anticipation and tried to stay as quiet as possible.

"I'll never be able to find her now! What am I going to do without my love- bug?" Her fathers voice was near, she could see his feet beside the table and watched them pace up and down the small kitchen. She let out a bundle of giggles before putting her hand over her mouth again.

"Oh, now I know that laugh!" She saw her fathers head peek under the table and bursted out into cheerful laughter. "Found ya buttercup! Great hiding spot!"

There was a flash of bright light, and a loud crashing noise before Ariadne's vision slipped into black.

* * *

><p>Ariadne threw herself up into a sitting position. She was panting and drenched in a cold sweat. She was entangled in her hotel- duvet cover and was shaking from the trauma of her dream. Ariadne gulped in the air and wiped her sweat with the back of her hand. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach, and laid down in bed.<p>

This was a strange dream. Often, she dreamt of dreaming. Ariadne's nightmares were often plagued with her fear of limbo and her experience in the dream world. It had been a long time since she had dreamt of something that reflected her past so heavily. In her dream, Ariadne's father looked so youthful and strong. He was not the man she had seen die in the hospital bed over ten years ago, however, many times that was the face she remembered the most. His gaunt face, and broken body. His cheeks were sunken in and his skin was inhumanly pale. His hair was dry and frail as he lay there, dying.

Ariadne shook the image out of her head and focused on breathing deeply. She felt uncomfortable, and was covered in aches and pains that didn't allow her to get out of bed. Her stomach was cramping terribly and she was in dire need of a hot water bottle, pain medication, and something chocolate. Ariadne groaned and looked at the time. It was nearing 7:30am and her alarm would soon go off. She and Arthur were supposed to meet again and delve deeper into her mind. Though, as her cramps worsened Ariadne knew she would not be getting out of bed for a long time.

Ten minutes passed and Ariadne was curled up into a tight ball. Her period cramps were sharp and made it difficult to move. She blindly searched for her phone along her side table. She grabbed it and, without thinking, dialed a number.

"Hello?" Arthurs voice said on the other end of the line.

"Hi Arthur, it's me. Listen, I'm not feeling well and I don't think I'll be able to make it in today," Ariadne groaned into the phone. She realized how horrid her voice sounded. It was dry and had a terrible tone to it.

"Are you alright Ariadne? Do you need anything?" He offered kindly, though Ariadne' could hear how concerned her was. She wanted to give the point- man a list of products that would make her feel better including: chocolate, a good movie, a hot water bottle, and a cup of coffee but she refrained from doing so.

"No, no, that's alright. I'll be better by tomorrow. See you then, bye." She said quickly into the phone before she hung up. She buried her face deep into her pillows and began to drift off for another few hours.

In the afternoon, Ariadne was propped up against the pillows on her bed, watching a pay- per- view movie on the T.V as she tried to make herself feel better. She had hardly left her bed, and was still in her sleeping shorts and baggy t-shirt. Ariadne tried to watch the movie, but her mind kept running rampage as her thoughts were spiraling out of control.

She wondered about Arthur, and her relationship with him. She wondered if he was even looking for a relationship beyond what they had. Ariadne pondered what he was seeing so deep in her subconscious and why it was taking him so long to get through a few layers of memories and information. It was strange that he had hardly had another regular session with her. All he did was hook her up to the machine and then would dismiss he after he came out of the dream looking stressed and worried. He always would cast her a strange look after they awoke from a dream, and often times would roll his loaded die like his life depended on it.

How deep was he going? And why wouldn't he talk about it?

It's not as though they talked about much at all though. However, despite the lack of casualness between them, Ariadne was still extremely attracted to Arthur. She found his quietness a mystery, and his appearance coy and devilishly handsome. She loved the way he articulated himself, and how well experienced he was with the dream realm. She admired his hard work and knew that they connected on a deep level. And despite not knowing what that was, Ariadne wanted to find out.

Her thoughts continued to race as she stared at the screen. By the time her attention was brought back to the screen, there was a woman racing to the Empire State Building in New York on Valentine's Day. She was supposed to meet a man that she loved, and his son. Ariadne felt hopelessly confused as she remained curled up in bed with more aches and pains. Her head was pounded, her stomach was churning, and her back felt like it had been stabbed. Her face was pale, eyes bloodshot, and her hair was a mess.

Ariadne felt awful.

However, she found comfort in her fluffy bed, and exceedingly large clothes. She was content not moving as sank further into her covers. Ariadne was startled when she heard a knock at her door that nearly made her fly out of bed.

"Ariadne?" She heard on the other side of the door. Ariadne recognized that voice and was sent into a panic which did nothing to help subside her pain. She looked around the room, it was moderately clean, except for the fact that the sheets on the bed were so twisted and she had a pair of socks by the bed, the room was lightly littered with her clothes and her bag. Ariadne crawled out of bed and began shoving things messily into her suitcase. She threw water bottles into the garbage and tried to straighten out the bed to the best of her ability.

"Ariadne it's Arthur, I just wanted to see how you were doing, if you could open up?" She heard.

"Just a moment," Ariadne called back, her voice was still scratchy and dry. She tried to clear it to no avail as she began running her hands through her hair to get rid of all the tangles. She still looked pale and tired, she tried to pinch her cheeks slightly on her way to the door. She opened it and saw Arthur dressed in his usual suit and tie with a bag from the local drug store with him. She suddenly became aware that her pajama shorts were hidden by the large college shirt she wore, reveling her small legs, but attempted to pay no mind to it.

"Hi," she said in the same scratchy voice. "I wasn't expecting you to come," she said. Her teeth were grit as she talked through the pain she felt in her lower abdomen and back. This was not how she ever wanted Arthur to see her.

"I would have called but I figured you'd just say no. You didn't sound well this morning so I thought I'd just drop by." He said calmly, though Ariadne could tell he had an uncharacteristic flair of shyness building up.

"Are you visiting me as your client or your friend?" Ariadne said bitterly. She hadn't meant to be harsh, but she did need to know and was trying not to double over from cramps.

"Your friend if you let me be Ariadne," Arthur said quietly as he stared at her. When she didn't respond for several moments he slowly walked into her hotel room, and closed the door behind him. "You should get back into bed, you're looking a little pale right now."

Ariadne turned without saying another word, her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she forced down a smile that was creeping across her face. She crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers while Arthur laid out the things he had brought from the drug store.

"Here," he said after a few moments. He handed her some pain medication and a water bottle which she took gratefully. "I wasn't sure what else you needed, can I get you anything?"

Ariadne shook her head 'no,' and proceeded to crawl further underneath the covers. Her body was curled up tightly, and she looked extremely petite when compared to the large scale of the bed. Only a small portion of her head was sticking out from under the covers as she tried to contain a building blush with deep breathing. Arthur was caring for her with such tenderness, it sent her insides into a frenzy of confused feelings. Though, she knew that she was smiling and her stomach was filled with butterflies knowing that he was caring for her so sweetly.

Arthur pulled up a chair next to her bed. He had a concerned expression on his face, he could tell that Ariadne was very pale and in pain. He felt helpless as such was curled up underneath her covers.

"How're you feeling?" He asked poked her head from underneath her covers.

"Better than this morning, but still not all that great. I'll be better by tomorrow, I just needed some rest for today."

"That's good then. You didn't sound well over the phone this morning, and I didn't know how much supplies you would have had considering you're still living out of your suitcase and all." Arthur commented. They remained quiet for a while before Arthur glanced over at the paused screen.

"You're a Tom Hanks fan?" He asked.

"Well, not avid fan but I do enjoy his movies. This is Sleepless in Seattle, I think." Ariadne commented, Arthur scoffed lightly.

"You think?" He was looking at her with a teasing smile which she returned effortlessly.

"I was dozing off. I do know it's a complete chick- flick though. Have you seen it Arthur?" She responded coyly. She giggled lightly and came further out of her covers so they weren't smothering her as much. The tension was slowly leaving her body, and Ariadne was improving steadily as the pain medication relieved her worst symptoms.

"Yeah, Eames and I watched it together actually. We thought it wouldn't be as. . . romantic because it was Tom Hanks, you know? But by the time we realized it wouldn't be like Forrest Gump, it was too late to change."

Ariadne burst out into laughter, and soon Arthur's chuckles joined her. And for hours they discussed random books, movies, and music. It was like the strangest first date, but at the same time, it was a wonderfully comfortable setting between friends.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello! I hope everyone's doing well! I am pleased with the response to this story, and I love and appreciate all my readers very much. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! Remember to review!:)**

****Disclaimer: I own neither the movie, _Inception,_ nor the song, _Speeding Cars._** **

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 19: Speeding Car_

There was something about him.

Something about him that made her heart flutter, her cheeks flush, her stomach flip, and her tongue stutter.

Ever since they had spent that evening together, talking in her hotel room, the relationship between the architect and the point man seemed to have changed drastically. Their remarks were coy and playful...dare Ariadne say _flirtatious? _

The past few meeting, Ariadne and Arthur avoided the dream space. They sat down on couches with coffee and would discuss her childhood, and her life. Sometimes, Ariadne would catch Arthur staring at her while she spoke, as opposed to furiously taking notes. As Ariadne walked into the familiar wear house, she saw the point man, already on the couches waiting for her.

"Good morning Ari," he said to her with a smile. He was fond of his new pet name for her, and despite that he had been using it for a couple days, the name still brought heat to Ariadne's cheeks.

"Good morning Arthur," she replied as calmly as she could. Ariadne situated herself on the couch adjacent to the other. She set her purse down and folded her hands comfortably in her lap. "What are we talking about today?" She asked him with a smile.

"Well," Arthur started hesitantly. "I know it's not your favorite topic, but I think I need to know more about your parents, and I think it would be best for me to avoid that space in your mind."

Ariadne was silent for a long while. She wrung her hands nervously in her lap. She didn't like talking about her parents, either one of them. Her relationship with her parents was always stressful, and now that she was, essentially, orphaned, it brought up painful memories. However, the architect nodded slowly. "What did you want to know?"

"Let's start off with your relationship with your mother? Both before and after the divorce?"

"Well, before the divorce she and I got along fine. I don't remember much. My mother and I got along well after the divorce too, it was only when she would be very over-come by grief, regret, or my grandparents provoking her that she and I would go weeks, or months without speaking. She did get into drinking for a small amount of time, and I remember this one evening where she was so, well, drunk, that I got locked in a closet for crying. I was ten.

"My mom was always able to sober up the next day, and drinking never got in the way of her job or life in general, so I wouldn't say she was an alcoholic. But, she did make some bad decisions. She worked two minimum wage jobs, and when I turned fourteen I worked one to help out with the house. Our expenses weren't too bad, my mother got a lot of money for the divorce, my dad was paying for everything school related, and my grandparents were so overjoyed with the divorce that they happily supported us. I started working shortly after my dad passed away, just to keep myself busy and replace that source of income." Ariadne took a deep breath. Arthur was eerily silent, she couldn't even hear his breathing.

"My mother and I grew apart when my dad died. We blamed each other for a long time, and even afterward, we never reconnected. She said I reminded her of him too much, and would get upset very often. I got through high school, and went away for college. I didn't know she was sick until after the inception case. She was terminal, and passed away. We never reconnected, but I was left everything." Tears welled up in her eyes, and Ariadne fought not to choke on her words. "Despite all of her mistakes, my mother also got me through my rough times. I had a difficult time coping with my dad's death, and regardless of what she would say, she was still my mom. I'm not saying I approve of everything she did, but before her death, I definitely forgave her."

Ariadne couldn't fight her tears any more. She had hardly mourned over her mother at the time of her passing. She her heart ached as she cried for her mom. Ariadne felt a shift in the weight of the sofa, and saw that Arthur was sitting next to her, his hand on her shoulder and a box of tissues in the other. She took one and dabbed her eyes, sniffling quickly to regain composure. Arthurs hand moved from her shoulder and rested on top of her hand, he didn't look at her.

"I lost my mother at an early age," he said to her quietly. "My dad raised me and my two brothers, one older, one younger."

Ariadne was shocked that he had shared this information with her. "I'm sorry," she whispered after a long pause.

"Me too," he replied as he squeezed her had reassuringly. "We can stop if you like," he offered.

"No, no, I'd rather get all of these questions out of the way. Is that enough on my mom?" Ariadne asked as she gently shifted herself closer to Arthur. He nodded.

"I don't need to know too much about your dad, I was able to find quite a bit of information about him. He was an architect, and opened his own firm that later got owned by another. He passed away a pretty young guy, early forties. And I saw a memory of yours which I think depicted your relationship well. Basically, I….- I know this is difficult. But how did your dad die?"

"He was hit by a drunk driver in a speeding car."

"Ariadne, I'm so sorry. You lost him when you were really young," Arthur sympathized.

Ariadne nodded. "His death was very, very sudden. I remember everything about those two days. I was with him in his last moments, he was giving me all his life lessons, just as any dad would I guess. I took his death very hard. I was depressed for over a year. I tried distracting myself with a job and school. I lost a lot of my friends, and I could not wait to get out of that small town. It was a difficult time, but I remember him in good spirits. You would have gotten along really well. He would have loved you," Ariadne managed a smile.

Without thinking, Arthur pulled the petite architect into a soft embrace and stopped questioning. They sat there, holding each other, for a very long time. And as they broke apart, they stood and began the walk to Ariadne's hotel.

The walk was silent. It was late afternoon and the street was busy with traffic. People were bustling about, in and out of stores and local cafes.

"Can I get you anything to eat?" Arthur offered, breaking the heavy silence that was between them.

"No thanks, I don't have much of an appetite," Ariadne responded politely. Her voice was soft and Arthur strained to hear her. Soon, they arrived at the door to the hotel, and Arthur was due to turn back from walking her. "Good evening," she said to him as she began to turn around.

"Wait, Ariadne." Arthur said to her. She turned around with a confused look on her face. The point man closed the remaining distance between them. As he peered down at the architect he realized how short she really was. How she had light freckles all along her cheeks and nose, and how her cheeks were flushed with a dusty- pink color.

She looked at him with her round, hazel brown eyes. They caught the afternoon light in such a way, that her eyes appeared to sparkle when she looked at him.

"I know that today was difficult for you," Arthur began slowly, his voice was soft and deep. "And I know it couldn't have been very easy, but I guess I appreciate your openness with me. So, thank you."

Ariadne laughed very lightly. Her giggle was short and made a small smile appear on her fine lips. "Arthur, you don't need to thank me for trusting you. I know I don't know much about you, but I trust you so very much. So rather, thank you for providing me with that safety." And Ariadne turned and left a speechless Arthur.

As Arthur walked back to the wear house, he couldn't help but feel a stone of guilt fall into his stomach. She _trusted _him, almost indefinitely. Even though she hardly knew him, she placed so much faith in him. But, if she saw what he was seeing in her mind… The vast amounts of personal information that he was extracting, and the fact that he had extracted too much for his own purpose- would she still trust him then?


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Enjoy! :)**

******Disclaimer: I own neither the movie, _Inception,_ nor the song, _Speeding Cars._******

* * *

><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 20: For Years_

He breathed in deeply, and his eyes fluttered open. His eyes focused on the bright light streaming through dusty windows, itching to fight through the years of rust. The sunshine was at war with the dirty wear house windows. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, even though he just woke up. Extracting information made his mind tired and hazy, his body sluggish, and when with the architect, his emotions were a wreck.

Arthur watched Ariadne slowly get herself into a sitting position, and gently cup her head in exhaustion. They sat in a heavy silence. Heavier than the dust on the windows.

"Arthur," Ariadne said after a long time, her words fighting to get through the moments of rusty quietness. "Arthur, I have to know something."

Arthur looked at her inquisitively, and he felt his heart beat quicken inside his chest. He nodded slightly, in request that she would proceed.

"Arthur, this has been bothering me for a while. But what are you seeing in my subconscious? I feel like every time you resurface, your face is pale, you're shaking, and always so quiet. And, I do trust you with my thoughts, but it's hard when I don't know what thoughts I'm trusting you with."

The sun went behind a cloud, and cast a grey shadow over the wear house. The artificial, industrial lights were humming in loudly in the background. In the very corners of the buildings, no light could be seen at all. And more dust collected on the windows as time passed.

"Did you know that this used to be a factory that made toy dolls?" Arthur said. "Yeah, there was a fire one day, and they could never restore the place as well as they wanted to. The company closed, and abandoned the building two years after the fire. They tried to make it work, but it didn't."

Ariadne just stared at Arthur. Her eyes were piercing through him.

"I'm not a child Arthur, you can tell me."

"But that's just it Ari, you are. You are a child. In your subconscious, everything I see is some blurred representation of a memory that you have, or just walls of drawing space. Your subconscious is so…," Arthur struggled to find the right word. "So raw Ari. Your subconscious is so powerful and so raw that sometimes its overwhelming. Every time I think I have a plan for you, I see something that just messes it up."

Ariadne stared at him, and ran a hand through her short- sleek hair. She hadn't expected that. "So that's it? You're done extracting?"

Arthur shook his head.

"I'm not going all the way through, I'm leaving you some privacy. I'm only going to go six levels into your subconscious as opposed to nine. Your subconscious is layered structurally." Arthur commented. _That was a lie though._ Arthur had penetrated through two layers of Ariadne's subconscious, and had more information than needed, but he knew he couldn't stop. Arthur needed to know what was contained within the last three layers of her subconscious. "I plan to revisit some of your layers for more dissection."

Ariadne nodded. "How many more time will we be going under?"

"Three. We'll space them out as appropriately as possible." Arthur responded poignantly.

Ariadne nodded. "Okay, I trust you."

There it was again. That 'T' word that Ariadne seemed to emphasize so heavily on Arthur. It made a lump in his throat form, and a boulder drop in his stomach. As the pair packed up their respected items and got ready to leave, Arthur wondered if he deserved Ariadne's trust. He knew the answer was 'no,' but at the same time he felt like he would be so lost without it.

In Ariadne's subconscious he had gone through two layers that coincided together. They reflected much of what Ariadne had told him before about her relationship with her mother. In one layer she saw Ariadne doodling as a child. She was drawing buildings and proudly showing them to her mother, saying that she wanted to be like her father. This was after the divorce, and her mother got infuriated. She discouraged Ariadne and tore through some of her drawings, leaving Ariadne crying sitting in the middle of her room. Wishing that she had her father to console her. The other memory that Ariadne's subconscious was keeping was the time Ariadne was locked inside the closet. He didn't see much, but felt the fear, abandonment, and mistreatment of Ariadne. Her emotions overwhelmed the dream, and it soon collapsed around him.

As he looked over at the architect, he realized that she was like a rare flower. She had pursued through so much dirt of a childhood that could have easily smothered her, and kept her from the light, but instead made her blossom into something even more beautiful. Arthur realized that his feelings for Ariadne had surpassed the point of curiosity, interest, or a small crush. He liked her. Really, really, liked her.

During the walk to Ariadne's hotel, Arthur remained silent. He was noticing all the small things about the woman beside him. He noticed how the street venders caught her eye. How she marveled at the tall, majestic skyscrapers that towered over them. He noticed how she smiled lightly as the breeze picked up, and that she had the smallest, most discreet dimple in her cheek that he never noticed before.

"I'll see you tomorrow Arthur," Ariadne called off as she turned away from him, the wind blew past her in a large gust. Her hair whipped around her viciously. The scarf that was loosely tied to her purse flew off the handle and danced wildly in the wind before landing on the pavement. Arthur managed to pick it up, before the silk scarf tumbled lazily down the street. He held the scarf, and acted on impulse.

"Excuse me miss?" He said, a goofy smile working it's way onto his face. "I think this is yours," he tapped Ariadne on the shoulder before she disappeared through the hotel doors.

Ariadne turned to him, gave him a strange look and accepted her scarf out of his warm hand. "Thank you-"

"Arthur. My name's Arthur," he said with a charming smile. Ariadne flushed and admire the way Arthur's eyes lit up when he smiled. He even had a couple little wrinkles around his eyes when they were closed slightly.

She stuck her hand out, playing along even though she remained heavily confused. "Ariadne," she introduced herself. She let out a stream of giggles, "what on earth are you doing Arthur?"

"I'm trying to ask you to join me for dinner. Not as a client, not as a part of the job," Arthur said smoothly. He tried to keep his calm exterior while his insides were bursting with nervousness. He had no idea why he was asking her, he should have waited until after the job- that was the logical thing to do. But Ariadne made things change, made everything turn on it's head and made him act on impulse like he was in college.

"And I promise," Arthur started, "that I'll show up this time."

Ariadne laughed. Her teeth were bright and white, her lips framed her smile perfectly. Her laugh was loud and careless. It wasn't the most graceful laugh, but it was hers and it made Arthur smile. Through her fits of laughter she managed to nod. "I'll be ready by six. I'll see you later." She gave him a bright smile and disappeared through the hotel doors.

The Californian sun was shining as bright as ever.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I hope everyone has enjoyed their holiday season. Happy 2014!**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the idea of Inception, nor the song Speeding Cars. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated! Enjoy! xox**

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><p><em><span>Speeding Cars<span>_

_Chapter 21: No Need for Violins_

Maybe the black tie with diamonds… or the brown tie with stripes? Or perhaps he could opt for the plain red tie with the tapered end, or his classic black tie?

Arthur stared at his reflection while standing in the hotel closet. His hair was still wet and ruffled from his shower, there was still a bit of shaving foam nuzzled behind his left ear but none of that was remotely important. What was important was the shirt- tie combination he was going to wear to his date with Ariadne. Just thinking about it made his stomach do a backflip. _It's just dinner,_ Arthur tried to remind himself, but the thought of dinner made him want to hurl, and his throat close up with nervousness though none of this could be seen in his reflection. In the mirror Arthur saw his tall, slim stature. His muscles were not overly defined, and overall he looked fairly average. His skin was clear and fair in pigmentation, and if he smiled he had a dimple that formed in his cheek- giving him a boyish looking face.

Making his tie selection, Arthur continued to get ready. He wiped his ear clean of the shaving foam and ran a comb through his hair. Slipping on his black shirt and red tie, Arthur glanced at the digital clock by the double bed.

5:45pm.

And without a second thought, Arthur grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet and was out the door.

Arriving at Ariadne's nearby hotel, Arthur waited patiently for the elevator to ascend to her floor. The more he stood in that small vertical transport method, the worse he felt. He felt like he was going to pour sweat, and he kept running a nervous hand around the back of his neck. Finally, on the 8th floor, Arthur stepped out of the elevator his knees were already willing to collapse out from underneath him. He swallowed and walked down the elegantly lit hallway.

His shoes made no sound against the industrial beige carpet, and soon Arthur was standing right outside her room. He raised his hand to knock when he heard her boyish laughter coming from behind the door along with a muffled voice. With a higher sense of urgency Arthur knocked. He heard her light steps coming from the opposite side of the door and heard the locks clinking open.

"Hello!" Ariadne greeted him cheerfully. Her face was slightly flushed but was glowing nonetheless. She was still barefoot, her toes were painted an odd shade of purple, and a tattoo that Arthur had never noticed before was clearly visible; otherwise, Ariadne was in a simple navy blue, one shoulder cocktail dress. The dress flattered her petite form and made her skin appear dewy and sun kissed.

Ariadne led Arthur into her simple hotel room and sitting on a chair in the corner was none other than Eames.

"Arthur!" He boomed, as he stood up excitedly. Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes widening slightly. He shook Eames' hand with a polite smile.

"Eames! What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, mimicking Eames' excitement.

"I ran into him in the lobby bar on my way up, and we've just been catching up." Ariadne said from the other side of the room. In her ears now were two diamond studs, her arms were reached over her head, her fingers were fumbling with the clasp of the necklace she was trying to get on. She sighed with slight frustration, "Arthur, could you please?" She asked, gesturing to the string of diamonds she was holding. He nodded and made his way over to her.

Ariadne was significantly shorter than Arthur. He had to bend down slightly to see the delicate clasp. The pads of his fingers brushed against the back of her neck delicately as he clasped her necklace, and Arthur briefly admired the elegant bun Ariadne had managed to twist her shiny hair into at the nape of her neck. She spun around, the diamonds reflecting this light onto her, which made Ariadne appear as an iridescent glow. She whispered a breathy 'thank you' as a blush crept over her cheeks. And then, she returned to her small closet, slipping on her shoes. He could smell her perfume.

It smelled of daisies.

"So Arthur! I hear you're treating us to dinner tonight. Pray tell, where are we going?" Eames said as he slipped on his blazer.

_Us…we… US?!... WE?! _Arthurs' mind screamed out in frustration. Count on Eames to take pleasure to his discomfort, and Arthur couldn't help but send him a glare.

"I made reservations for Ariadne and myself at a restaurant in the city," Arthur said smoothly.

"Ah! Lovely darling, truly lovely, because where there's a city there is a bar. And where there is a bar, there is surely alcohol. Shall I drive or will you?" Eames said appearing to be completely oblivious, but as soon as Ariadne walked back up to him, elegant heel gracing her feet, Arthur knew he had lost the war.

"Oh, Arthur you'll drive won't you?" She asked him hopefully, her stare lingering on his face. "Just incase Eames gets overly intoxicated," she added before looking away and grabbing her clutch bag that was laying on the edge of the bed. Arthur only nodded with her in agreement and tried desperately to hide his sigh of disappointment. Eames smirked at him and escorted Ariadne out the door, leaving Arthur to groan quietly as he left the room last.

He hated Eames.

The drive to the restaurant was bearable, but eating dinner left Arthur feeling sour. He had barely been able to get two words in since they sat down. Eames was constantly talking about his adventures from all over the world, and Ariadne did her best to listen with rapt attention. Her eyes would often wander to the point man across the table from her who looked moderately upset. It became easier to ignore Eames as his words began to slur together. After ordering yet another beverage from the bar, Eames excused himself to the bathroom.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he could have Ariadne to himself. She looked at him hopefully and realized this would be the perfect time to say something.

Shit.

What was he going to say? After a few moments of silence Arthur managed: "The guy can really talk, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He's a character all right." Ariadne said back in a quiet voice.

Shit.

Way to go Arthur.

"I never did thank you very well," Ariadne began uncomfortably. "For that day I wasn't feeling well. Thank you for stopping by."

"It wasn't a problem," Arthur muttered.

A few moments of silenced passed them. Uncomfortable, awkward, silence.

"I didn't get the chance to say this earlier," Arthur started, "but, you're looking beautiful tonight Ariadne."

He saw the blush creep over her cheeks, and her offer him a shy smile. "Thank you very much, and you look handsome yourself Arthur." He smiled at her, he could practically feel his lone dimple drilling into his cheek.

"For a point man anyway," she added at the end just before she erupted into a fit of giggles.

Arthur chuckled quietly. "What's that supposed to mean Miss. Architect?" He challenged quickly.

"It means, that for a guy who's always burying himself in research, you know how to clean up."

"Clean up do I? That's a laugh coming from the girl who has buried herself in saw dust on more than one occasion." Ariadne burst into laughter.

"Oh man, I can't top that Arthur. You win this battle!" She joked with him between hurtles of laughter.

"So I can proclaim myself the winner, fair and square?" Arthur asked her between his own chuckles. He loved the way she laughed. Her laugh wasn't too high pitched, and it had a boyish charm to it. Her smile lit up her face while she laughed, to the point where it outshined her diamonds.

"You may win the battle, but let me assure you that I will win the war," she said in a mock serious voice.

A brief moment of silence passed them, before they both continued to laugh mirthfully. It was all so harmonious until Ariadne let out an uncharacteristic, and abrupt snort.

Her hazel- freckled eyes went wide with horror, and her hand clasped over her mouth quickly. Red head seeped up into her face and flooded her cheeks completely. They felt aflame with embarrassment. Arthur continued to laugh, if not harder than before.

After laughing at Ariadne's horrified expression, Arthur's loud laughter was subdued to a simple chuckle. He reached across the table, and gently guided Ariadne's hand away from her mouth.

"That was positively adorable." This not only made Ariadne's expression turned from horrified to shy, but also made her face, if even possible, redder. "I better make sure the drunk isn't passed out on the bathroom floor, excuse me love," Arthur said smoothly after a moment of silence passed between them. He got up and left her at the table to calm down.

Ariadne couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard that she had snorted. And despite her moment of horror, Ariadne smiled warmly at the feel of Arthurs' hand on top of hers. She reveled in that one moment.

There was no spark or sense of electricity that pulsated through her. No, she just felt warm.

Ariadne did not have long to dwell on her thoughts as she saw the other two thirds of her date walking out of the men's room. Well, really one was practically carrying the other.

Eames tripped over his own feet, and his head was digging into Arthurs shoulder as the point man guided him to the table. Ariadne shook her head gently as Arthur reached the table, picked up the check and hoisted the drunken Brit on his arm again. Ariadne pushed in her chair and went to help escort Eames.

The car ride back to Ariadne's hotel was silent. Though, Ariadne could have sworn she heard Arthur cursing the "bloody drunk prick," under his breath. The trek from the car to the hotel lobby seemed especially long with Eames' tripping every which way, and his head lolling in an unsightly manner.

"I think I- sick." Eames managed to slur together and before Ariadne or Arthur had a chance to react, Eames upchucked on Ariadne's heels.

"Oh Eames," Ariadne muttered under her breath as she slipped out of her shoes and continued the walk bare foot, leaving her soiled shoes in the parking lot to waste. Finally, the couple managed to get the European onto a roll away bed in Ariadne's hotel room. Eames promptly passed out and Ariadne walked Arthur to her hotel door.

"Thank you for a lovely night out," she said staring up at him with her hazel- brown eyes. "Overall, I had a nice time."

"Overall, I had a nice time too. It was a joy being with you this evening Ariadne, and I'm sorry about your shoes." Arthur commented. He stared down at the small girl, judging that there was no chance she surpassed five feet, the inches which was a stark contrast to his five foot, ten inch self.

"It's a shame about those shoes but it happens. Eames officially owes me a new pair though." Ariadne joked lightly. She looked down at her small feet. She felt a finger under her chin that lifted her face up to meet Arthur. His lips grazed her cheek softly.

"I really did enjoy my time with you, good night Ariadne. I'll see you tomorrow," he said to her softly. He enjoyed watching the heat rise up into her cheeks as she smiled sweetly at him.

"Good night Arthur, thank you. And I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that Arthur left the hotel, his red skinny tie dancing around his neck.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review if possible!**

**Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the song Speeding Cars, nor the work of Inception. **

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><p><span><em>Speeding Cars<em>

_Chapter 22: Glistening in the Cold Sweat of Guilt_

Arthur wheeled around in his spin chair and turned to face Ariadne. Arthur, Ariadne and Eames were back in the wear house, going over ideas and modifying ways to build a defense within Ariadne's mind. Arthur was beyond stressed out.

Two days ago Arthur received a rather threatening phone call from his employer, Saito, who was becoming less and less patient. Arthur had swallowed hard, knowing well that this was his fault entirely. He was so distracted with Ariadne, and diving deeper into her persona that he barely remembered that this was a job. Sure, he had thought of countless ideas, but nothing of true substance.

Saito accepted no excuses, nor did he feel obliged to be apologetic for sending his personal minion after the pair of dreamers. And so, it boiled down to Arthur's supposed incompetence for the job. Arthur attempted to assure Saito that his work was fully detailed, and was in great progress. In other words, Arthur presented Saito with a half- lie. Yes, Arthur worked in great detail, building a manual for Saito to use on others by leading through example, while including the history of dream construction for further information. However, the work lagged simply because Arthur indulged himself in who he found to be the most intriguing and complex woman he had ever met.

Saito didn't care, and gave Arthur two weeks to get the job done.

It was preposterous, and made for a stressed Arthur. In two weeks he had to work Ariadne's mind to its full potential in order to meet Saito's deadline…he didn't want to think what Saito would do if he did not meet it. The three of them would be on the run, and it would all be Arthur's fault.

Arthur gulped nervously.

"So, as you know we need a protective service that goes at least two layers deep into your mind. We can either use two different tactics, or one universal one. The benefits of a universal one is that a third layer- if someone managed to intercept their way through your subconscious so far- would automatically hold that defense. Like Fischer, he had a militarized based defense from start to finish." Arthur explained to Ariadne who nodded in understanding before Eames cut in.

"Because you have some experience in the field, we believe that you would be able to tell that you're dreaming before a third layer is pushed upon you. Statistically speaking, no one would be able to make it past your second layer even without a defense simply because of you knowledge of extraction." Eames said. He looked as rugged as ever and seemed to have a permanent hang over that would slowly ebb away during the day, only to return in full the next morning.

"How can you say that I have so much experience? I did one job, and I was only the architect." Ariadne argued against them, she was undoubtedly nervous beyond belief. All of this was hitting her hard, like a boxers glove smacking against her cheek making her head spin all the way around. "And Arthur, didn't you say you needed to revisit some of my subconscious?"

Ariadne noticed the appalled look that Eames gave Arthur. It was one of shock, but mostly anger. She attempted to decipher what hidden message was in Eames' look because the moment Arthur saw it his expression turned to one filled with guilt and shame. However, it was all gone before Ariadne could blink twice.

"You are an experienced dreamer, not many people can say they witnessed and undertook an entire inception case. Plus, you made it out of limbo alive," Ariadne suppressed a shiver when Arthur mentioned 'limbo.' "And I will, but I feel confident that we can start your training now. In two weeks Saito wants to come personally and pick up my documents, and I have no doubt that he will want a full demonstration."

Ariadne nodded. "So, what are we thinking for my first layer?"

"Because of your knowledge, not only as a dreamer, but also as an architect we imagine you being able to alter the realities of your dream automatically." Eames began to explain. "Your first layer, we hope, can act like a Rubik's cube of sorts. Being able to take whatever maze has been implanted into your mind, and alter it without the immediate need of your projections." Ariadne looked wide- eyed at Eames.

"So, you want my projections to sense it's a foreign dream, and then alter the reality of it?" She questioned in an exasperated tone of voice.

"What is reality when you're in a dream darling?" Eames challenged her cheekily and Ariadne clenched her jaw. "Think of a Rubik's cube. What is the objective?"

"To get all the sides to match up by twisting the rows." Ariadne answered him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Exactly," Arthur replied. "Now a maze is just a confused bunch of rows. We want you to be able to manipulate the maze, and make it so it matches what you wish it to be. Change it, alter where it leads, give it dead ends, and winding staircases to nowhere. Twist and turn each alleyway to your hearts content. This will also alert any projections to the high changing and level of instability in your dream. This will make your extractors confused and waste their time. They won't have a plan, because this would be a defense that they can't avoid."

"So, you want me to become the architect, even when I'm not?" Ariadne asked again, attempting to wrap her mind over this complex though. She was doubtful. She was doubtful that she would not be able to perform as the boys wished she could. It made her feel like an automatic failure of sorts, and she hated the feeling.

Arthur nodded excitedly at her. "Exactly," he said. "That's exactly what we want you to do! Want to give it a try?" He asked her.

Ariadne hesitantly nodded after a few moments and Arthur began hooking the three of them up to the dream-inducing machine.

"You look nervous," Arthur muttered quietly to Ariadne while inserting the syringe into her arm. "We don't have to do this today if you don't feel ready Ari."

"No, no. I'm fine. I trust that you know what you're doing. It's just nerve wrecking but I'm sure I'll be fine. You're coming with me right?" She questioned him. She ignored Eames' snort, but noticed how it made Arthur glare at the floor furiously. Arthur simply nodded and left to situate himself in his chair.

"I gave us fifteen minutes, let's see what we can do."

And as Arthur pressed the rubber button on the middle of the machine, the three dreamers were dropped into a world of the imaginable and the unknown.

Ariadne opened her eyes in a library. The high ceilings seemed ancient and detailed. Carvings out of stone with detailed gold leafing made her feel like she was studying in her Paris based university. She saw books with French titles lining the shelves and wandering students who weaved between the desks and bookshelves. Ariadne smiled slightly to herself, she was not the dreamer in this case, but she reckoned that Eames was. He always did think of her being quite the book nerd.

Walking out of the library building, she spotted Eames and Arthur in a near by stone courtyard, standing patiently for her. As she walked up to them, she noticed that Eames' jaw line looked hard, like he was clenching his teeth madly at Arthur who avoided his gaze.

She cleared her throat quietly, pretending to admire the courtyard. It was obvious that this place was slightly thrown together. She knew it was some one else's dream simply for the lack of detail. The angel engravings on the stone pillars had no faces and no hair. There was no vine twisting its way across the pavement, and the stone squares all seemed to be in perfect condition. Not one single crack lay beneath their feet. The dream gave a small tremble.

"That shows you know it's already a dream. Come on, let's walk around a bit." Arthur said, leading her out of the courtyard and into a city center. She saw the bustling cars and buses zooming past her on the street. She saw the crowds of people walking along the sidewalk, or stopping to enjoy the river scenery.

"Eames is somewhere else in the dream," Arthur suddenly said. "He is going to observe what he feels happening, he is the one that designed this, so it should be interesting assuming this works."

"How am I supposed to change a maze when I don't know what it looks like?" Ariadne asked Arthur.

"Well, you don't know the details of it, but you know that there's edges of some sort, start by altering those and the move your way towards the center." Before Arthur could finish his thought, he felt a jolt. Something to the effect of an earthquake startled him and he saw corners of the city rising up and crashing down like waves of water crashing along the sea. He looked over at the brunette beside him and saw her eye brows knitted together in focus making small wrinkles appear on her forehead. The walls of the courtyard began to change and suddenly, one wall was completely gone and the others were sealed shut. Another corner of the maze folded up and rested there as if it were on hinges. He saw buildings disappearing, and alleyways becoming major roads, and roads becoming dead-ends as pathways. It was truly amazing.

Arthur opened his eyes to find himself back in the wear house. He heard a gasp from his right and saw Ariadne awake and panting slightly. Arthur rushed over to her, grabbing the garbage bin by his desk along the way.

"This is completely normal. Sometimes there are side effects to these defenses. You are going to feel very tired for a few hours, and sick to your stomach. Headaches are rare, but not unheard of in this case. It'll mostly just be fatigue." He said quickly while sitting next to her, trying to act as calm as possible. Ariadne continued to breath deeply, her face paled just as she upchucked into the bin.

After a few moments, Arthur put the bin aside and pushed Ariadne down on the couch. "Rest for a few hours, then we'll talk about technique. You'll feel better if you sleep," Arthur said in a quiet voice, Ariadne simply nodded.

Arthur turned around to leave Ariadne resting on the worn couch before he felt her catch his hand. "How'd I do?" She asked.

"Bloody brilliant I'd say; bloody well had me running around with your damn projections." Eames said from the side, he looked worn himself, his usual swagger was gone and instead was a tired looking man. "You've always been quick to pick up on this nonsense."

Ariadne smiled, dropped Arthurs hand and within a few minutes she fell asleep. She had no idea what was in store for her when she woke up, but in the mean time she intended to fully enjoy her nap. Heck, maybe she would even have a dream of her own.


End file.
